Road Trip
by Belle Walker
Summary: A sequel to 'Camping Trip'. It's really quite ridiculous - I do apologize. Originally written 2003.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

"The Grand Canyon!" Nick shouted.

"Man, that's so lame!" Warrick objected. "We get five whole days off work and you wanna go see some hole in the ground?"

"Hey, it's a work of art by mother nature!" Nick defended.

"Disneyland!" Warrick insisted.

"Disneyland?" Catherine snorted, highly amused. "Warrick, nobody over the age of twelve goes to Disneyland!"

"_I_ do," Warrick pouted.

"Seattle," Catherine said.

_"__Seattle?"_ Warrick, Nick, and Grissom chorused in disgust.

"I like the Space Needle!" Catherine defended herself.

"Is the destination really all that matters?" Sara interrupted, looking around at her colleagues as they sat in a circle on Catherine's living room floor.

They all gaped at Sara like she had just spoken through her feet.

But Sara ignored their expressions and expanded on her thought. "I mean, haven't you ever just driven down a road simply because you wanted to, and not because of where it ended? Or turned a corner you hadn't turned before, just because it's there?"

"What are you talking about?" Nick asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"No planning involved," Sara said in plain and simple terms. "Spur-of-the-moment decisions. Are you guys afraid of a little spontaneity?"

She received four blank looks.

Sara tried a different approach. "Look, I'm saying that maybe the journey itself is more important than the destination. I'm saying maybe we should just get in the car, and see where it takes us."

Grissom, sitting next to Sara, was staring at her with a thoughtful expression. " 'Two roads diverged in a yellow wood. And I, I took the road less traveled by. And that has made all the difference'," he quoted perfectly.

"Robert Frost was a wise man," Sara answered with a smile, nearly losing herself in Grissom's gaze.

"Um, I hate to interrupt your little mind meld here," Nick said. "But isn't that how people get lost?"

Grissom tore his stare from Sara's eyes and turned to Nick. "You get lost when you deviate from your planned path, Nick. But if you have no plan, you can't deviate from it."

Sara finished, "Therefore, you can't really get lost."

Once Nick was thoroughly confused and didn't offer any further protest, Sara continued voicing her thoughts. "Yeah...I figure, drive for a day or two, find out where we ended up, have some fun there, and use a map to find our way back."

Grissom gave her a proud smile. "I like Sara's idea."

"Of course you do," Catherine replied with a smirk. "You _always_ go along with what Sara says."

"And what do you mean by that?" Grissom challenged. "She happens to have good ideas."

"I like her idea too," Warrick said. "It sounds like fun."

Not wanting Warrick to think she was the grump in all this, Catherine quickly amended, "Well I never said I didn't like Sara's idea. It sounds good to me."

"But...we'll get _lost,_" Nick whined.


	2. Day One

**DAY ONE**

They each stuffed a suitcase into the back of Catherine's SUV. They took hers simply because it was the largest and had more cargo room.

Catherine claimed the driver's seat first, because it was her vehicle after all.

Nick claimed the front seat.

Sara agreed to sit in the back.

Grissom wanted to sit by Sara.

Warrick wanted to sit in the front with Catherine, but since Nick was occupying that seat, he was forced to sit in the back with Sara and Grissom.

After an hour of silence, Nick turned on the radio and put it on a country station.

Catherine gave him a curious sideways glance.

Warrick wanted to gag.

Sara told Nick to turn up the volume.

Grissom stared out the window and tried hard not to cringe at the so-called music assaulting his ears.

* * *

Catherine drove all day.

Each time the road forked off, somebody threw out a suggestion of whether to turn left, turn right, or go straight.

"We're gonna get lost," Nick whined.

"It's getting dark," Warrick said. "We should find a motel or something."

"Where are we, anyway?" Sara asked Catherine.

Catherine shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."

"I knew it! We're lost!"

"We're not lost, Nick," Grissom said. "We simply don't know where we are."

"That means we're lost," Nick insisted.

"Look! There's a hotel!" Sara leaned across Grissom to look out the window.

Catherine turned the vehicle towards the hotel parking lot and switched off the motor.

They all stared at the tiny, run-down shack that served as the office.

Catherine wrinkled her nose, but got out and went into the office anyway. She came back a few minutes later with a somewhat mangled key on a grimy orange tag.

"Well?" everyone asked expectantly.

"They have one room," Catherine said unhappily. "We all have to share it."

They grumbled their responses and followed her to the one hotel room.

Catherine unlocked the door and turned on the light.

Roaches scattered.

Nick screamed.

Warrick jumped.

Catherine gagged. "They call this a room?"

"What? I wanna see," Sara said, pushing her way in. "Oh _eeww_!"

"I can't see!" Grissom complained. "What is it?"

Sara took a quick step backwards, out of the room. "That whole wall is one big mushroom!"

"Yuck!"

"Gross!"

"Sick!"

"Not on your _life!_" Catherine ran out of the room, slamming the door shut.

They all stood on the sidewalk, without a clue of what to do.

"I get the car!" Grissom and Sara shouted simultaneously.

Sara sprinted off towards the SUV, with Grissom on her heels. "Mine!" She jerked open the back door, hopped inside, and locked all the locks.

"Sara!" Grissom nearly whined, pulling at the door handle. "Let me in! I don't want to sleep in the mud!"

Sara took pity on her bugman. With a grin, she unlocked the door and opened it. "All right, come on."

"Us, too!" Catherine, Nick and Warrick also piled back into the vehicle through the back passenger door, somehow managing to trip and fall on each other.

"Ow! That's my foot Nick!"

"Well that's my elbow!"

Warrick flailed into the front passenger seat.

"Hey, cut it out!"

"Watch it!"

"Ack!"

Sara shoved Catherine out of her way, causing the blonde to land in Warrick's lap.

In retaliation, Catherine pushed Sara into Grissom's arms.

Sara grinned. "Thanks, Cath."

"Anytime." Catherine shook her hair out of her eyes, got up off Warrick, and stumbled her way to the driver's seat.

Nick selfishly occupied most of the backseat, leaving less than minimal space for Sara and Grissom.

Sara poked Nick in the ribs until he finally relented and scooted over. Sara then stretched out diagonally on the seat between him and Grissom, putting her head on Grissom's shoulder.

Reasoning to himself that there was simply no place else to put his arm, Grissom wrapped it firmly around Sara.

Catherine reclined the driver's seat as far back as it would go, which was into Nick's knees.

Warrick reclined the front passenger seat into Grissom's legs.

Grissom promptly moved his legs, shifted until he was diagonal to the seat but parallel with Sara, and propped his feet up on Catherine's headrest.

Sara put her legs up over Nick's lap, and rested comfortably with her side pressed against Grissom's.

"Goodnight, Grissom."

"Goodnight, Sara."

"Goodnight, Nicky."

"Goodnight, Catherine."

"Goodnight, Warrick."

"Goodnight, John-Boy."

Sara snickered at Grissom's last input.

They all closed their eyes and went to sleep.


	3. Day Two

**DAY TWO**

Grissom woke up with his head on Sara's back.

Warrick woke up with Sara's foot on his head.

Nick woke up on the floor, with some of Lindsey's old, discarded cheerios in his face.

Catherine woke up with her head in Warrick's lap and a foot hooked through the steering wheel.

Sara woke up hungry. "I need food," she said to Grissom.

Grissom sat up and brushed Sara's hair away from her brown eyes. "And good morning to you too, Miss Sidle."

"Hey, tell your girlfriend to get her stinky feet out of my face," Warrick grumbled.

"My feet do _not_ stink," Sara answered, poking her toe into Warrick's neck.

Sara tried to stand up in the cramped vehicle, but only succeeded in rolling off the seat and onto the floor.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Nicky." Sara patted his chest. "Didn't mean to land on you."

"It's okay. I always wanted to wake up with a beautiful woman on top of me."

Sara laughed.

Grissom narrowed his eyes at Nick, but smiled at Sara.

Warrick glared at them all, and smiled at Catherine. "I'm starving. What do you say we find a good cafe?"

"McDonalds!" Nick immediately said.

"Ugh!" Grissom said. "We want food, Nick. Not nuclear waste."

"Taco Bell ," Warrick suggested.

Sara shuddered. "I just lost my appetite."

"Dairy Queen?" Catherine asked.

Grissom and Sara gave each other questioning looks.

Sara shrugged a shoulder.

"Dairy Queen sounds good," Grissom answered for both of them.

"And it's _my_ turn to drive," Sara declared.

Catherine didn't argue, for she had driven all day yesterday. "Fine with me." She removed her foot from the steering wheel, and huddled against Warrick.

Sara squeezed between the two front seats and sat down behind the wheel.

Catherine wiggled into the back and sat down next to Grissom, tripping over Nick and almost conking her chin on the window.

Nick got up off the floor and sat on Catherine's other side.

Grissom pouted that Sara was so far away from him now. "Hey, Warrick. Trade me places."

"Sure." Warrick eagerly climbed into the back. He crouched in front of Nick and Catherine so Grissom could inch past him and into the front passenger seat.

Warrick then sat next to Catherine.

With a smile to Sara, Grissom put his seat belt on.

Nick burst out laughing.

Four pairs of eyes swung around to look at him. "What?"

"That would have been a lot easier if y'all had just gotten out of the car to switch places."

"Easier," Sara echoed. "But not nearly as fun." She put her seatbelt on and started the engine.

Sara found a Dairy Queen after twenty minutes of driving. She parked the SUV like a pro, and poked the keys into her pocket. As an afterthought, she reached back into the vehicle and grabbed her khaki backpack.

Grissom slipped an arm around Sara's waist as they walked the short distance from the parking lot to the front door.

Catherine looped her arms through Nick's and Warrick's arms, and followed Grissom and Sara.

They all placed their orders, then found a clean booth to sit in.

Sara took a detour towards the restroom. With wet paper towels, she washed her face.

Opening her backpack, she found a hair brush, deodorant, and makeup. Her clothes were a wrinkled mess, but there was nothing Sara could really do about that.

She applied deodorant to her underarms, then sprayed a light mist of perfume on her hairbrush and ran it through her hair. Feeling somewhat refreshed, she rejoined the group.

Catherine, as always, was squished in the middle between Warrick and Nick.

Sara idly wondered if they were her own personal male harem.

She banished that strange thought and slid onto the bench next to Grissom.

Grissom had eyes only for Sara. Baby blue eyes that looked at her happily.

He brushed his fingers through the ends of her hair, letting them linger on her cheek.

"Awww." Nick watched them with a grin on his face.

Sara threw a ketchup packet at him.

Nick was about to retaliate but changed his mind when his cheeseburger was set down in front of him.

Catherine devoured her breakfast burrito.

Warrick munched on his taco.

Sara ate a small tray of crispy, crunchy onion rings.

Grissom ate his chicken sandwich and stole an onion ring from Sara. He grinned when she playfully nudged him with her elbow.

"I need more Pepsi," Sara stated. She went to the machine to refill her cup.

Grissom absently watched his lady love. His eyes narrowed when a man approached her and started talking.

With a friendly smile, Sara answered the man and gestured towards their booth.

The man regarded them with a very strange look, then said something else to Sara and left.

"You know, I thought we left all the weirdos behind in Vegas," Sara said to the group as she sat down.

"What did he want?" Grissom asked.

Sara raised an amused eyebrow. "He wanted a wife."

"A _wife_?" Grissom didn't like that one bit. "What did you tell him?"

A mischievous grin spread across Sara's face. "I told him that _I_ wasn't interested, but Catherine here could always use another husband. I guess he thought I meant in addition to you three guys."

Grissom couldn't control the amused look that came over his face. "Shame on you," he said, laughing.

Nick and Warrick almost laughed themselves out of the booth.

Catherine simply glared. "Can't you control her?" she grumbled to Grissom.

Grissom laughed again. "Never. Not even if I wanted to."

Sara gave him a smile.

Grissom finished his chicken sandwich, and grabbed the keys that Sara had tossed onto the table. "It's my turn to be Car Captain."

Sara tilted her head slightly and looked up at him. "So, Captain...can I be Navigator?"

Grissom gave her a patented For-Sara-Only smile. "Of course you can."

Under her breath, Catherine muttered, "Gag me with geek love."

Warrick snickered.

Nick grinned.

* * *

Grissom drove for an hour.

Sara tossed him occasional directions of when to turn and when to keep going on the same road. When she wasn't navigating, though, Sara watched Grissom out of the corner of her eye.

Grissom didn't mind. He watched Sara when he thought she didn't know it.

She was looking especially lovely in her jeans shorts and a wrinkled tank top.

Grissom gave Sara a sidelong glance, and dragged his eyes back to the road when she leaned forward and turned the radio on.

Sara controlled her grin, enjoying Grissom's covert attention. She turned around in her seat to face the three passengers in the back. "Hey, could someone pass my backpack to me?"

Catherine tossed the backpack with a half-hearted aim at Sara's head.

Sara caught the pack and stuck her tongue out at Catherine. "Thank you." She put her favorite Pink Floyd CD into the stereo.

As the first song began to play quietly, Grissom glanced at Sara with a grin. "I didn't know you liked Pink Floyd."

"Are you kidding? Pink Floyd is the best! Especially synched with The Wizard of Oz," Sara replied enthusiastically. "It gives the whole movie a wonderfully dark undertone."

_My kind of girl,_ Grissom thought to himself.

They listened to the entire CD. When it finally ran out of songs, Sara put it away and turned off the radio.

Grissom, realizing that he hadn't heard so much as a peep from the backseat, glanced in the rear view mirror. He chuckled to himself when he saw the reflections of his colleagues.

"What?" Sara asked when Grissom chuckled.

"Look back there," he whispered.

Sara turned sideways in her seat and looked. "Oh my god," she whispered with an amused grin.

Nick was resting his head against the window.

Catherine was snuggled against him with her head on his upper arm.

Warrick had thrown an arm loosely around Catherine. His cheek was pressed against hers and his chin rested on her shoulder.

They were all sound asleep.

Sara grabbed her camera and took a picture. "That is too cute," she murmured.

Grissom gave Sara a half grin. "I want a copy of that picture."

Sara smiled, lifted her camera again, and took a picture of Grissom's adorable grin.

* * *

"Hey, a carnival!" Warrick shouted. He had woken up long ago, and took over driving when Grissom started to feel drowsy.

"Cool!" Nick said. "Pull in! I love carnivals!"

Sara awoke in the front passenger seat. "What's all the commotion about?" she asked sleepily.

"Apparently, we're going to a carnival," Catherine answered from the back seat.

"Oh, cool," Sara said. She stretched her legs and sat up in her seat. "I like carnivals."

"You sound like Nicky," Catherine said with amusement.

Sara shrugged, and threw a grin at Nick. "Well, Nick _does_ know how to have fun."

Grissom observed this exchange with a little smile. He honestly wasn't jealous of the friendly banter between Sara and Nick. On the contrary, he found it to be a refreshing contrast to the daily grind of their jobs. Grissom knew they were the best of friends, and his relationship with Sara wasn't threatened by it.

"I want to ride a go-cart," Warrick said as he parked the SUV and they all got out. "I haven't ridden one since I was a kid."

"That was about a week ago, right?" Nick deadpanned. He grinned good-naturedly at the glare Warrick sent his way.

"Hey, go-carts are fun," Sara offered. "I wanna go with you, Warrick."

"Cool," Warrick answered with a grin. "At least someone agrees with me."

They paid the admission fee and entered the carnival grounds. It was a rather large carnival, for being in such a small town away from the city of Las Vegas .

Sara conned Nick and Grissom into joining herself and Warrick in riding the go-carts.

Catherine refused, insisting it really wasn't her thing.

After a little prodding, though, she did consent to target practice, and felt very ridiculous shooting plastic bullets at the bent up—but rapidly moving—cardboard targets.

The pimply-faced teenager running the booth kept giving Sara and Catherine googly-eyed looks.

The CSIs all found this to be quite amusing, especially since Sara gave the teenager her death stare in return.

Sara teased Grissom as she waited her turn. "You gonna impress me with your target shooting skills?"

Grissom answered her with a smirk. "Only if you impress me with yours."

Warrick won a stuffed bear. He exchanged it with Catherine's hairy ferret.

Nick won a fuzzy Dalmatian. "My niece will love this," he said with a grin.

When it was Grissom's turn, Sara tried to distract him by running her fingers slowly up his back and blowing gently in his ear.

Grissom knew what she was trying to do. "It's not gonna work," he said with a grin. He raised his eyes and pistol, and shot each target as it moved.

Sara attempted a pout because she couldn't distract him, but it quickly turned into a smile.

Grissom chose an oversized stuffed ladybug as his prize. He gave it to Sara, along with a kiss.

Now it was Sara's turn to shoot the idiotic targets.

Grissom decided to give her a taste of her own medicine. He ran his fingertips along her sides as she took aim and pulled the plastic trigger.

Sara hit the moving target effortlessly.

Grissom tried again. Ignoring the amused looks of Nick, Catherine, and Warrick, he snaked his arms around Sara's waist from behind and pressed his lips to the back of her neck.

Sara hit the next moving target. To Grissom, she said, "In the words of you, it's not gonna work." With a grin, she tilted her head slightly to give him more access to her neck, and pulled off three more quick shots. The targets went down.

Sara picked a large fuzzy tarantula, and silently handed it to Grissom, who couldn't help but smile at her.

The pimply-faced teenager gaped at them all. He had never seen an entire group of people all hit their targets so exactly. "Are you guys cops or something?" he asked. "Cause I only ever seen cops do shooting that good."

Sara smiled sweetly at him. "I'm afraid that's classified," she said smoothly. "We could tell you, but then we'd have to shoot you."

The teenager's mouth dropped open. "Um, uh," he stammered. "That's okay. You...you don't have to tell me. I, uh, I don't really wanna know."

The five CSIs held in their laughter until they were far away from that game booth. Then they let loose.

Nick gave Sara a high-five. "That was hilarious!"

"I loved it!" Catherine exclaimed.

Grissom squeezed Sara affectionately. "What am I gonna do with you?" he said with an amused smile.

"You could try some handcuffs and duct tape," Warrick snickered.

Sara slyly looked Grissom up and down. "Handcuffs are good."

Grissom raised an eyebrow at her.

Sara smiled innocently, despite the implication of her words.

"Don't go giving them any ideas, Warrick," Catherine said. "Those two are strange enough already."

Sara merely continued grinning. "Hey, Griss? Hold my bug? I gotta find a restroom."

"Me too," Nick said. He tossed his stuffed Dalmatian to Grissom.

Grissom shrugged. Arms full with stuffed prizes, he followed Warrick and Catherine to a bench and sat down to wait.

Nick waited for Sara outside the women's restroom. "Hey, there's a cotton candy stand," he said to her when she came out. "Let's get some."

Sara looked over to where he pointed. "Over there?"

"Yeah. Come on."

Sara didn't move an inch. "I'm not going over there, Nicky."

Nick gave her a concerned look. "Why not? What's the matter, Sara?"

Sara looked almost panicked. Her eyes were wide and her face was pale. "Go get your cotton candy, Nick. I'll wait for you here."

Nick took a step closer to Sara. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

Sara wished Nick would just drop the subject and get his cotton candy. Seeing that his investigator mode had kicked in, Sara knew she wouldn't get away without an explanation.

Her expressive eyes locked onto Nick's. "There's, uh...there's a _clown_ over there, Nick," she said in a low voice.

"Sara, this is a carnival. There are clowns everywhere. Come on." Nick tugged playfully on her hand.

Fear reflected in Sara's eyes. "I'm not going near it," she insisted with a little shake of her head.

Nick studied Sara's face. "Okay, you're starting to scare me." Gently, he asked, "Sara, are you afraid of clowns?"

Sara nodded, swallowing back tears and looking at the ground. "I feel like an idiot. I'm an adult. I shouldn't be afraid of clowns." She raised her eyes to Nick's face. "But they terrify me, Nick," she added in a half whisper.

"Aww, Sara," Nick put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. "You're not an idiot. A lot of people are afraid of clowns. It's actually quite common in adults."

Sara wiped at a tear that threatened to fall down her cheek. "Really?"

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Really. Listen, everybody's afraid of something." Nick tucked a lock of hair behind Sara's ear and continued. "I have a cousin who's afraid of frogs. And he's thirty-five."

That made Sara laugh. "He's afraid of frogs? Poor guy. I don't feel quite so stupid now." She put her arms around Nick and hugged him. "Thanks, Nicky."

"We can get cotton candy later," Nick told her. "Let's find the others." With an arm still protectively around her shoulders, Nick steered Sara through the crowds to where they had left Grissom, Warrick and Catherine.

Catherine and Warrick, thankfully, were too busy talking to notice the anxious look on Sara's face.

Grissom noticed immediately and jumped to his feet. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"A little clown encounter," Nick replied in a low, discreet voice.

Understanding was evident in Grissom's eyes. He knew of Sara's phobia. "Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?" he asked Sara, gripping her hands in his.

"I'm fine," Sara assured him.

Grissom looked skeptical.

"Really. Nick took care of me." Sara gave Nick a grateful, yet embarrassed, smile.

Grissom pulled Sara close against his side and gently rubbed his hand up and down her arm. "Thank you, Nick," he offered sincerely.

"Let's just keep this between us, huh?" Sara asked him. "Cath and Warrick don't know. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Of course!" Nick answered. "I wouldn't dream of telling them. Not anyone."

"Hey, let's ride the roller coaster," Grissom suggested to them.

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "Hey, Cath! Warrick! You gonna ride the roller coaster with us?"

Warrick and Catherine turned their attention to their colleagues. "Yeah, okay."

Grissom and Sara got the two front seats.

Catherine and Warrick sat directly behind them.

Nick sat behind Catherine, next to a cute girl who just happened to be there.

The roller coaster made them all feel sick, with the exception of Grissom. With a grin, he patted his iron stomach. He had the good sense to give his colleagues sympathetic looks, though.

Catherine and Warrick slipped away together to calm their queasy stomachs. They chose a quiet, grassy area surrounded by trees.

Warrick gave an exaggerated groan and threw himself down in the grass.

"I feel like crap," Catherine whimpered.

Nick sat down on a park bench in the middle of the carnival grounds. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying desperately to ignore the squeezing sensation in his stomach.

"An ice-cold Pepsi would calm my stomach," Sara weakly told Grissom. "Could you get me one?"

Grissom didn't think carbonated liquid filled with sugar and caffeine would be a good idea, but he bought her a small Pepsi anyway.

"Mmmmmm," Sara said, leaning against a tree and sipping her Pepsi. "Honestly, Grissom. I don't know what you see in those." She gestured toward the structure of curved rails where yet another load of people were putting their health in jeopardy.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly sure either." Grissom thought for a moment. "I think it's the high speed that appeals to me."

Sara studied Grissom's face as she took in this information. "Hmm," was all she said. She emptied her Pepsi cup and tossed it in a nearby trash can.

"Hey, is that a cotton candy stand?" Sara asked, looking past Grissom. Her eyes scanned the area suspiciously, but there was not a clown in sight. "I'll be right back."

She left Grissom under the tree, returning a few minutes later holding a paper cone filled with fluffy, pink spun sugar.

"You don't like cotton candy," Grissom stated matter-of-factly.

Sara shrugged a shoulder. "It's for Nick. He didn't get any earlier." Sara looked down with a little embarrassment. "Because of my...because of the clown thing."

Grissom said nothing for a moment. He gave her a lopsided smile, reached a hand out, and caressed her cheek. He tugged gently on her hand. "Come on. Let's find Nick."

Nick was still lounging on the park bench they had left him on.

Grissom hung back a little as Sara snuck up behind Nick and wound an arm around his neck.

"Hey there, Nicky," she said into his ear.

Nick opened an eye and grinned at her. "Hey yourself."

"Feeling any better?" Sara asked.

"Yeah, actually, I am," Nick answered, giving her arm a friendly pat. "Thanks for asking."

Sara removed her arm from around his neck and sat down next to him. She offered him the cotton candy with a smile. "A little something for my best friend."

Nick swung his gaze to meet hers. "Best friend?" he echoed in surprise. "Really?"

Sara nodded.

"Aww, thanks, Sara!" Nick took the offered candy and pulled Sara into a hug. "You're _my_ best friend too."

Sara chuckled and returned the hug. As she pulled back, she met Grissom's eyes, silently inviting him to join them on the bench.

Grissom sat next to Sara, sliding an arm around her waist and pressing a small kiss into her hair.

Nick pulled away a fairly large chunk of cotton candy and popped it into his mouth. "I love this stuff," he said to nobody in particular. He laughed when Sara wrinkled her nose.

"Hey, there's Cat and Warrick," Nick said around a mouthful of cotton candy.

Catherine made her way toward them with Warrick in tow. They squeezed onto the end of the park bench, which was just a tad too small for five adults.

Unwilling to be squished, Sara stood up from her place beside Nick and sat on Grissom's lap.

Grissom readily accepted Sara's choice of seating, and wrapped his arms around her.

Warrick snatched a wad of Nick's cotton candy and shared it with Catherine.

"So who's driving next?" Nick wanted to know. Despite his protests yesterday about getting lost, he was actually looking forward to finding more places to visit.

"Are you finally offering to play chauffer now too?" Catherine asked with a sidelong glance.

"What about your paranoia about getting lost?" Warrick snickered rudely.

"Hey, leave him alone," Sara defended authoritatively, earning surprised looks from her colleagues.

"Sorry," Catherine and Warrick muttered, eyeing Sara warily.

"You don't want Sara throwing more rubber bugs, do you?" Grissom asked with a smirk, referring to Sara's antics on their previous vacation together.

"Ah, rubber's a thing of the past, Grissom," Sara answered breezily. "Maybe next time I'll just dig up the real thing."

Warrick stared at Sara. "You wouldn't."

"Oh yes she would." Grissom grinned widely at them. "I learned that the hard way with a hissing cockroach."

Sara turned and poked Grissom in the side. "Hey, that was your own fault," she insisted. "Next time you visit my apartment, leave your pets at home."

Nick, Catherine and Warrick regarded them very strangely.

"Ooookayyyy..._way_ too much information there," Catherine stated.

"Ahem, I was thinking we should find a decent hotel tonight," Nick said, looking around at them all. "I, for one, do _not_ want to sleep in the car again."

"Yeah, waking up with Sara's feet halfway up my nose isn't my idea of fun," Warrick agreed.

"Close your nostrils, and that won't happen," Sara countered sweetly.

"Ooooh, Warrick has big nostrils," Catherine mocked.

"Shut up, blondie," Warrick returned.

"Settle down, children." Grissom attempted to make peace with the group.

Sara took charge of the situation. "I think Nick should have his turn driving. Maybe he can find us a good hotel this time."

Warrick smirked. "Anything's better than that dump Catherine found last night."

Catherine glared at her favorite Lenny Kravitz look-alike. "_Sara_ found that rat hole, not me."

"But _you _decided to stop there," Grissom automatically defended Sara. "And you also paid for that excuse of a room on your own decision."

Seeing no way to dig herself out of the figurative hole her colleagues were suddenly burying her in, Catherine covered her face with her hands and growled in frustration. "I give up!"

"Wise decision." Nick gave her a not-very-sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "You get Brownie points for your effort, though."

* * *

"On the road again," Nick sang along with Willie Nelson's staticky voice on the radio. "Like a band of gypsies we go something something something...we're the best of friends...blah blah blah...on the road again..."

Warrick snickered from the front passenger seat. "Dude, you don't even _know_ the words to that hayseed song."

"Neither do _you_," Nick shot back.

Warrick guffawed. "And I don't want to, either."

In the back seat, Sara's eyes were glued to the scenery beyond the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of some wildlife.

Beside her, in the middle of the seat, Grissom scowled to himself. He was badly losing at the Palm Pilot arcade game he had earlier confiscated from Nick.

To his other side sat Catherine, deeply absorbed in the trashy romance novel she was reading. She chewed absently on a few strands of her highlighted hair, until her taste buds realized that her strawberry-scented shampoo residue was quite less than appetizing.

Sara gave up her hope of seeing anything with four legs and fur. She sat back in her seat with a disappointed sigh. "There's nothing out there but dust and trees."

"Ooh, speaking of trees," Warrick piped up. "I need a bathroom break. I've been holding it for an hour."

Nick gaped at him. "An hour? Why didn't you say something earlier, man? I would've stopped somewhere for you."

Warrick turned an embarrassed shade of pink. "I was hoping we'd come to a rest stop by now."

Nick sighed and pulled the SUV onto the shoulder of the road, turning off the engine. "Pick a tree, my friend," he smirked.

Warrick grumbled something about "unsanitary conditions", but unbuckled his seatbelt and got out anyway, quickly disappearing behind the trees.

Desperate to find something to occupy her mind as they idly sat waiting for Warrick, Sara swept her gaze over her three remaining companions.

Nick switched the ignition key to "accessory", turning the radio back on without having to start the engine up again. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, bobbing his head to the country song on the radio.

Grissom was still losing at the hand-held arcade game, his brow in a furrow and the tip of his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth.

Seemingly unaware that the car had ceased traveling and was now parked on the roadside, Catherine was still lost in her novel.

_How can she read with her book practically on her nose? _Sara marveled silently.

Oblivious to her colleague's curious stare, Catherine moved the book away from her face a few inches to turn the page, then promptly resumed reading.

A smile formed on Sara's face as her utter boredom collided with her mischievous nature. She licked her index finger, slowly reached behind Grissom, and gave Catherine a wet-willy directly in her ear.

"Hey!" Catherine jumped and swatted Grissom with her book, causing him to drop his digital game on the floor of the vehicle.

"Ow! Knock it off, Catherine!" Grissom ducked away with his arms up in defense.

"Me? _You_ knock it off!" She whacked his shoulder once more for good measure, ripping apart her book in the process.

"What did _I_ do?" Grissom demanded, snatching the mangled book away from the irate blonde.

"You stuck your saliva-covered finger in my ear—_that's_ what!"

"I most certainly did not!" Grissom denied hotly. "The only ears that _ever_ come into contact with my saliva are _Sara's!_"

Sara gaped at her bugman, her cheeks flushed. "Grissom! They don't need to know that!" She pulled the tattered remains of Catherine's book from Grissom's grasp and smacked his other shoulder with it.

"Well I'm sorry," Grissom lowered his voice a few octaves. "But Catherine's accusing me of something I never did." He scooped up the destroyed book and tossed it out the window before anyone else could harass him with it.

"Ooooh, Grissom's littering," Nick scolded, looking out his window at the book remnants sinking in a mud puddle. "Shame on you, boss."

"Shut up, Nick."

Nick didn't respond. Not because Grissom had demanded his silence, but because he spotted Warrick trudging back towards the car.

A wicked idea popped into his head. Either Nick was spending too much time around Sara, or he too was a practical joker at heart.

He started up the engine when Warrick was just a few yards away, and slowly pressed his foot down on the gas pedal.

The SUV rolled forward along the pavement.

"Hey!" Warrick shouted, breaking into a run. "Stop!"

The native Texan snickered, keeping a slow but steady pace ahead of Warrick.

"Nicky, you stop this vehicle right now or I'm chucking your Palm Pilot," Catherine commanded.

Nick glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, a look of panic on his face. "You wouldn't."

Catherine quickly rolled down her window and extended her arm outside with the small piece of battery-powered equipment dangling from her fingers.

Fearing the safety of his beloved video game, Nick slammed his foot on the brake.

The abrupt loss of momentum threw the passengers forward. Catherine pulled her arm back inside after almost dropping the Palm Pilot out the window.

Grissom immediately turned to Sara, putting his hand on her arm. "Are you okay?"

Sara, still irked at Grissom for opening his big mouth, jerked her arm free. "I'm _fine_."

Grissom was deeply hurt that Sara would snap at him over such a minor thing as ears and saliva. He quietly withdrew his hand and folded his arms across his chest.

Warrick pulled his door open, jumped into the seat, and slapped Nick on the back of the head. "Moron!"

"Dude, you run like a girl!" Nick chortled, smoothing his hair back into place.

"I do not," Warrick glowered as he put on his seat belt.

Catherine elbowed Grissom. "You owe me a new book."

Grissom ignored her and asked Warrick what time it was.

"Seven-thirty," Warrick answered after a quick glance at his digital sport watch. "And since neither Catherine nor Sara seem to be skilled in finding decent lodgings on this trip, I think _I_ should choose our next hotel."

"And just how do you intend to do that?" Sara wanted to know. "We don't even know where we are right now."

"Well, according to that sign back there," Warrick began with a satisfied smile. "There's a Motel Six about a half-hour away."

* * *

"Motel Six?" Sara snickered as she exited the SUV in the motel's parking lot. "I think this qualifies as a Motel _Four_."

"Just be glad it's here," Catherine replied, following the guys inside the small building. "I'm so tired my body doesn't even know if it's day or night."

Noticing the lack of chairs in the office, Nick took a seat in the middle of the floor.

Catherine eyed the grey carpeting with suspicion, telling herself she may have to burn her clothes if she, too, sat down.

Grissom marched up to the front desk and asked for two rooms.

"I'm very sorry, sir," the young receptionist responded with wide eyes, looking more nervous than a very high-strung Chihuahua . "But all of our empty rooms are being remodeled this month. And all the finished rooms are occupied."

Warrick sighed. "That's it—I'm camping out right here on this floor."

The receptionist gaped at him. "You can't be serious!" she squeaked. "That's simply not acceptable!"

"So what _is_ acceptable?" Sara interjected. "Making us sleep on the _sidewalk?"_ She stepped over Nick and pushed her way to the desk, her anger outweighing her exhaustion. "I bet _you_ had a nice comfy _bed_ to sleep in last night, while _I_ had to share a _car_ with _four other people!"_ Feet planted firmly in place, she stated, "I agree with Warrick. I'm staying right here, too."

"Yeah!" Warrick gave her a high-five. "You tell 'em, sister!"

The receptionist was positively panicked. "Oh my god! I have to call the manager! This just isn't reasonable!" She rushed to the other end of the desk and pushed a red button under the edge of the countertop.

Moments later, a balding man opened a nearby door and poked his head out. "What's the problem now, Jenny?"

The receptionist—now known as Jenny—relayed the situation with increasing hysteria.

Unfazed by his employee's tattered nerves, the manager calmly provided a simple solution: "So kick someone out of their room."

"But sir! The only person you can afford to kick out is your nephew!"

"Good!" Jenny's boss beamed at her. "Evict him! Lousy moocher hasn't paid for his room, anyway."

Jenny was aghast at the idea of removing a person from a room, even if they _were_ using it for free when they shouldn't be.

The manager turned to the group of CSIs. "No offense meant, but the last time someone camped out on this floor, it took us weeks to kill all the leftover lice. I don't want to take that chance again."

"Aagghh!" Nick jumped up off the floor, fervently brushing off the seat of his pants. "Why didn't you tell me this rug was contaminated?"

Catherine gave herself a mental pat on the back for wisely refraining from sitting on the polluted floor.

"If you will excuse me, I have a freeloader to get rid of." With that, the manager happily disappeared through another door.

Twenty minutes later, they were still waiting for their room.

"Isn't that housekeeping lady done cleaning it up yet?" Warrick grumbled. "I swear, if she takes any longer, I'm going to sleep right here on top of all our luggage."

"Hey—here comes the manager," Catherine pointed out.

"Oh thank God," Sara sighed.

"I'm so sorry about the wait, folks," the manager apologized. "Kicking my nephew out was a bit more difficult this time than it normally is. Please follow me to your room."

The group of five dragged their overnight luggage through a narrow hallway, coming to a stop in front of an open door.

"Enjoy," the manager said with a wide grin, handing Grissom the room key.

The room was surprisingly very nice compared with what they had expected. A few cheap (yet tasteful) paintings adorned clean white walls, and blue curtains framed a large picture window.

Although the room had ample floor space, the single queen-sized bed had been pushed up against one wall. The middle of the mattress contained a tall stack of extra blankets and pillows.

The five of them stared at it with slightly confused expressions.

"I'm sleeping in the tub," Grissom announced, hauling a blanket, a pillow, and his suitcase towards the bathroom. "The rest of you can fight over the bed."

"Not so fast, bugman," Sara replied. "We have to take turns getting changed in the bathroom before you can have it."

Grissom almost pouted. Sara was still being snarky at him, and all he really wanted right now was to get some much-needed sleep and start tomorrow with a fresh outlook. "Fine," he relented, sitting on the edge of the bed to wait for the bathroom to be free. "Just don't take all night."

Sara was in and out in no time, as were the rest of the group.

With an exaggerated sigh of relief, Grissom was finally allowed into the bathroom. He closed the door tightly behind him, changed into a pair of pajamas and fashioned himself a bed inside the wider-than-necessary tub.

Meanwhile, Warrick chose a blanket from the stack and wrapped it around himself. "Girls can have the bed," he graciously offered, tossing a pillow down on the floor. "We men aren't quite as delicate as they are."

Nick smirked as he lay down on his own makeshift bed. "Tell ya what...this hard floor is infinitely better than a lumpy one-third of an SUV's back seat."

Grissom lounged inside the bathtub with the upper half of his body propped up against the foot end of the tub. He had a pillow behind his head, his arms folded behind the pillow, and his sock-covered feet resting on either side of the drainage hole in the other end.

Oddly unable to sleep despite his earlier fatigue, he was now idly examining the shower's ceiling tiles in the darkened room.

He turned his head at the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing.

Sara stood with her back to the door and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. "Catherine was snoring in my ear," she explained softly.

Grissom squinted at her in the darkness, trying to judge whether she was still mad at him or not.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier," Sara continued, looking down at the floor. "I don't like hurting you, Grissom. Especially not over such stupid little disagreements."

Grissom gave her a forgiving smile and moved over, making room for her in the tub. "You wanna sleep with me?"

Sara grinned at him. "It's about time you asked me that."

She stepped into the tub and stretched out next to Grissom, bending her long legs the same direction his were bent so they wouldn't have to dangle over the tub edge.

Grissom wrapped his arms around her, and she snuggled up against his side.

"If you start snoring as loud as Catherine, I'll stuff a sock down your throat," Sara warned sleepily.

"You do that, and you'll be choking on the other sock," Grissom retorted with a chuckle. He kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, honey."

"Night."


	4. Day Three

**DAY THREE**

A shrill scream pierced the morning air.

Grissom jumped awake, his heart pounding in his ears. "What the heck was that?"

The next sound to be heard was a very loud thump, and then Nick's voice: "Ow! Get her off me, Warrick! She's killing me!"

Grissom and Sara scrambled out of the bathtub, both getting their feet tangled up in the blanket.

Sara was the first one to the door, and flung it open to see what the screaming was for.

Nick was on his back on the bedroom floor, halfway under a heap of blankets.

Catherine was on top of the pile, bludgeoning Nick with a pillow.

Warrick towered over Catherine, trying in vain to grab her arms and end her attack on Nick.

"She's sitting on my lungs!" Nick howled. He somehow managed to grip a handful of the offending pillow and clobbered Catherine with it, knocking her directly into Warrick's arms.

Still shouting and flailing, Catherine was finally hauled away from her victim.

"Is there a valid reason why you're trying to murder Nick?" Grissom asked simply from his place beside Sara in the bathroom doorway.

"Of course there's a 'valid reason'!" Catherine stormed, her nostrils flaring and her hair standing wildly on end. "I was minding my own business—trying to peacefully wake up from a good night's sleep—when I opened my eyes and came face to face with _that!"_ She emphasized her rant by pointing an accusing finger at Nick.

Sara snickered loudly. "You woke up with Nick in your bed?"

"I nearly had a heart attack!" Catherine wailed.

"_You?"_ Nick shot back, managing to sit up amidst the chaotic blanket mess. "_I_ nearly had a heart attack from being screamed at, kicked onto the floor, and ruthlessly pummeled by a psycho woman!"

"What were you doing in Catherine's bed in the first place?" Warrick demanded to know.

Nick pouted painfully as Sara held a cool damp cloth against his bruised eye. "I was cold," he weakly defended himself. "Sara wasn't using it, and I figured Catherine didn't need the whole thing for just herself. I didn't think she'd be so selfish about it."

_"__Selfish!"_ Catherine lunged at him again with her hands ready to close around his neck.

Warrick caught her around the waist, holding her in place and quickly pinning her arms to her sides.

"I bet you wouldn't have reacted like that if it had been Warrick in your bed, and not Nicky," Sara remarked with a smirk.

A silence descended upon the room as everyone stared at Catherine, waiting for her to contradict Sara.

"...so?" Catherine answered almost meekly, quite enjoying the fact that Warrick's arms were still around her, restricting any movements she might make.

"You really make a guy feel so wanted," Nick grumped sarcastically at her, his ego now bruised along with his body.

A figurative lightbulb clicked on in Warrick's head. "Hey, Catherine was supposed to share the bed with Sara, which she obviously didn't." He looked curiously at the brunette in question. "Where _did_ you spend the night, Sara?"

Sara's eyes widened as she realized she was the center of attention. "In the bathtub," she hesitantly answered in a small voice.

"Isn't that where Grissom said _he_ was going to sleep?" Nick asked suspiciously.

Sara blushed, looking down at the floor. "...yeah..."

Catherine took immediate offense. "Oh, so you'll sleep with Grissom, but not with me?"

Warrick guffawed loudly. "You may want to rephrase that sentence, Cat."

Catherine turned red as she realized the implication of her words. "That's not what I meant at all! You're disgusting!" She jerked free from Warrick's grasp and walloped him with her pillow.

Warrick gaped at her. "Oh, you're going _down_, blondie!" He picked up his own feather-filled pillow and socked her with it.

"Pillow fight!" Nick shouted. His sore eye forgotten, he grabbed a nearby pillow and joined in the battle.

Sara and Grissom regarded the pillow-slinging trio with much disdain.

"How childish," Sara scoffed, wrinkling her nose.

"I couldn't agree more," Grissom answered, draping an arm comfortably around her shoulders.

Sara leaned into his side. "Nick's gonna get a black eye," she remarked casually.

"Ouch, that must've hurt," Grissom smirked as Catherine got the wind knocked out of her lungs.

Nick's pillow ripped in half just as he was swinging it toward Warrick.

The man with mocha-colored skin received a mouthful of fluffy white feathers.

"Uh oh." Nick dropped the pillow, mildly fearful of Warrick's vengeance that was soon to follow.

Warrick coughed and gasped and spit, ridding his mouth of the fluff but unsuccessful in removing the nasty aftertaste.

He grabbed up the dead pillow and flung it directly into Nick's face, sending plumage flying all the way up to the ceiling.

"Ooooh, pretty!" Catherine exclaimed as the feathers rained down like soft, chunky snowflakes and littered every visible surface. She sounded so innocent and childlike that Warrick hooted with sudden laughter, inadvertently snorting a stray feather up his nose.

Nick spit a piece of pillow stuffing off his tongue, trying hard not to gag from the overly fluffy texture.

"If you three are done playing with pillow innards," Grissom began in an authoritative tone. "We really should get going."

"Yeah," Sara chimed in. "Our vacation is half over. We have to start back to Vegas tomorrow."

"At the most, it should take us two days to get home," Grissom continued. "But we've still got some time before we have to head back. We can visit at least one more town today, and maybe after lunch we could figure out where we are."

"We still don't know where we are?" Nick questioned wide-eyed, his tone laced with a hint of panic. "I told you guys we'd get lost!"

* * *

The five of them each took their turn in the shower and got dressed, then they all pitched in to clean up the feather mess from the ripped pillow.

After much debate on where to hide the evidence, Grissom finally just shoved it into a dark corner under the bed.

By nine o'clock that morning, they had checked out of the Motel Six and were back inside Catherine's SUV.

They stopped for breakfast at a nondescript café in a very small town.

"Why is everyone staring at me?" Nick wanted to know as they finished their breakfast. "I mean, I _am_ handsome and all...but it's more than just _women_ looking at me here."

"Maybe the men think you're good-looking, too," Catherine offered with a wink.

Nick was mildly creeped out by that thought.

Warrick laughed. "Or maybe they're just not used to visitors."

"Or maybe it's that black eye of yours," Grissom suggested.

"Black eye?" Nick repeated. He looked to Sara to tell him the truth. "Do I really have a black eye already?"

Sara gave him a slight smile. "I...wasn't going to say anything..."

Nick miserably slouched in his seat, trying to hide the bruise behind his hand.

Feeling a moment of pity for her friend, Sara snuck a hand into Catherine's purse and opened the makeup bag, her fingers smartly locating a few particular items. "Come on, Nick. Let's cover up that black eye."

"How?" he asked curiously.

"Makeup," Sara answered simply, standing up and poking something into her pocket.

The others snickered.

"Aww, man!" Nick reluctantly followed her toward the restrooms, noticing a maintenance sign hanging off one of the doorknobs. "Great. The men's bathroom is closed for cleaning."

"Women's bathroom isn't."

Nick looked at the women's restroom door with disdain. "Aren't there any other options?"

"Well...we could do this at the table for the entire town to see," Sara replied. "Or you could just let people gape at your black eye all day."

Nick thought about it. "Women's bathroom," he finally mumbled, pushing the door open.

Sara made sure nobody else was in the restroom, then locked the outer door to keep everyone else out. She pulled Nick over to a sink where the light was brighter, and opened one of the tubes of makeup she had snatched from Catherine's bag.

At the first touch of the application wand, Nick jerked back. "Ow! Do you have to jab my eye like that?"

"I didn't jab your eye—I barely touched it! Now hold still."

Five minutes later, Nick stood before the mirror and admired his sore eye—the bruise now expertly hidden under a subtle layer of cosmetic concealer. "Hey, that looks pretty good. The color even matches my own skin."

"What can I say...I'm an artist," Sara responded with a grin. "And before you ask—no, this skill is _not_ from first-hand experience."

"That's good to know," Nick answered sincerely. "But how _did_ you learn it, then?"

Sara tossed an empty tube in the trash and wiped a few tan-colored drops off the sink with a paper towel. "My roommate in college had an abusive boyfriend. He was always leaving bruises on her face and arms and back. She was too scared to ever report him to the police, and she wouldn't let _me_ report him either. So I helped her in a different way—by covering the bruises she couldn't reach that would attract unwanted attention."

"You did what you could," Nick softly answered. "Sometimes, that's _all_ you can do."

Sara gave him an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Nicky." To lighten the sudden melancholy mood that had settled over them, Sara added impishly, "I bet I could make you look real pretty with Catherine's eye shadow and lipstick."

_"__What?"_ Nick jumped away in horror, backing up against the far wall and quickly putting a few yards of distance between himself and Sara.

Sara laughed. "I'm just joking! Don't have a heart attack!"

"Don't scare me like that!" Nick hollered. "My sisters used to do that to me when I was a kid! Gina always held me down while Becky attacked me with her raunchy makeup kit!"

Sara stared at him, her eyes very wide in surprise. "What—you couldn't overpower two little girls whose weapons were _makeup_?"

"Little? They were bigger than me!" Nick peeled himself off the dingy pink wall and tried to calm his pounding heart. "It was even worse when my brother Dave helped them terrorize me. They'd probably _still_ be trying to do that to me if I hadn't moved to Vegas and left them behind."

With one more snicker, Sara unlocked the door and held it open for Nick to follow her out. They headed back to the table they had left the others sitting at.

Grissom gave Sara a smile as she sat down, his arm automatically sliding around her waist.

Warrick opened his mouth to tease Nick about wearing makeup, but he quickly decided against it when he saw Sara's warning glare.

Catherine ignored the glare and asked Nick not-so-innocently, "Want some mascara too?"

"Why don't you take your mascara and shove—"

"Ahem!" Warrick cut Nick off and ended the bickering by clearing his throat and addressing his other companions. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I kinda want to explore this sleepy town today."

"Yeah, I think I saw a retro-shop earlier when we rolled in," Sara answered. "I want to see what they've got."

"You need some pink platform shoes?" Grissom teased her with a playful smile.

Sara wrinkled her nose. "Uh...yuck. Even if I _did_ wear platforms, pink is the very _last_ color I'd choose."

"Actually, Sara, it might interest you to know that many guys _prefer_ women who wear pink shoes," Catherine informed her. "In fact, way back when I was a stripper—"

"Uh, shopping sounds good," Nick hurriedly agreed with Sara, deliberately interrupting the rest of Catherine's sentence. "Let's go. Now."

They each tossed in a few dollars to pay for their food, then ignored the curious stares of everyone they passed on the way out.

* * *

The inside of Jasmine's Vintage Apparel was much more impressive than the outside. Beyond the front entrance, the store was divided into two large sections, with men's merchandise to the left of the doors, and women's merchandise to the right.

Both sections boasted more than mere clothing; small wooden signs advertised areas containing miscellany of seemingly endless variety.

Between the two sections was a half-circular counter, where a young sales clerk sat by the cash register, painting her fingernails while chatting on the phone and completely ignoring her newest customers.

Catherine shrugged a shoulder and turned to the right.

With a quick kiss and a "See ya", Sara left Grissom's side and followed Catherine to the feminine part of the shop.

Nick and Warrick gave Grissom sympathetic pats on the shoulder, then dragged him off to the men's section.

* * *

After picking through a few racks of peasant blouses and finding nothing to her liking, Catherine browsed a shelf of old romance novels.

The books were slightly used already, but their condition was acceptable and the prices were quite reasonable.

Catherine tucked a few books under her arm, pleased that she'd found something to replace the novel she'd been reading yesterday before it had gotten demolished in the car. _I should make Gil buy them for me,_ she thought to herself. _It's his fault my other book got ruined. Even if he does deny it._

* * *

Sara reached up to a shelf and picked up a brown plastic headband with two fuzzy brown balls on springs protruding from the top. "I used to have one of these as a kid," she reminisced, setting the antenna headband on her head and looking into a nearby mirror.

"Nice," Catherine said with a grin, standing next to her. On impulse, she picked up a similar yellow headband and attached it to her hair.

She studied her reflection, eventually wrinkling her nose. "Guess I'm too old to get away with wearing one," she concluded, setting the springy object back on the shelf.

"Not me," Sara replied a bit smugly, adjusting the headband into a more comfortable position. "Why don't you get one for Lindsey?" she suggested. "I bet she'd have fun with it."

"You're right," Catherine agreed. "She'd love it." She grabbed the yellow headband again, choosing to carry it this time rather than wear it.

Sara followed her further down the aisle, the fuzzy spring-set balls swaying happily atop her head.

* * *

Warrick picked up a colorful beanie hat and flicked the plastic red propeller on top. The propeller spun quite cheerfully in a circle until it lost its momentum and wound down to a standstill.

Warrick moved to put it back on the shelf, but changed his mind when he saw Nick standing in front of a mirror and trying on a hippie-version of a cowboy hat.

He plucked the cowboy hat off Nick's head and dropped the beanie in its place, flicking the propeller once more.

Nick raised an eyebrow at the offending object spinning above his hair. "Over my dead body."

Warrick laughed. "Go out in public wearing that, and you _will_ be a dead body."

Nick gave him a pleasant but obviously fake smile, casually removed the bright beanie hat, and set it on Warrick's tasteful semi-afro. "Enjoy."

Warrick chuckled good-naturedly as he pulled off the silly little hat and smoothed the sides of his hair. "Know who this thing reminds me of?"

"Greg?"

"Yep."

"So get it for him," Nick suggested. "He loves gifts, regardless of how tacky they are. He'll think you're his new best friend."

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of," Warrick answered mildly. _It wouldn't hurt to bring him a souvenir, though. Poor guy was disappointed that he couldn't come along with us anyway. A little gift would cheer him up._

"Ah, what the heck. It's not like it'll make him any wackier than he already is." With the beanie in hand, he sauntered over to the next aisle.

* * *

"Well, I think I've seen all I want to see here," Catherine told Sara after a while. "I'm gonna find out what the guys are up to."

"I'll be there in a minute," Sara answered distractedly, rifling through a short stack of bellbottom jeans.

Catherine rounded the corner and was immediately tripped over by Nick.

"Sorry, Cath. Didn't see you," Nick apologized, handing her the books she'd dropped on the floor. He poked a finger at the yellow headband in Catherine's hand. "Bug antennae?"

"Either that or alien antennae," Catherine answered in amusement. "It's for Lindsey." She pointed in the direction she'd come from, adding, "Sara found _herself_ one. It actually looks kind of cute on her."

"Well, she doesn't look like an alien, so she must be a bug."

"And this bug is done over here," Sara told them both. "How about you guys?"

"I didn't find anything special," Nick replied. "Warrick and Grissom disappeared somewhere over there. Warrick's probably trying on more beanie hats."

Sara wrinkled her nose. "Beanie hats?"

"I'll go find them," Catherine volunteered, steering her feet toward the men's side of the store. _The sooner I get out of Hippie-land, the better._

* * *

She was really looking for Warrick, but managed to find Grissom trying on a black leather jacket instead.

"Whoa," Catherine grinned. "Look at you!"

Grissom smoothed the front of the jacket. "What do you think?"

Catherine circled him with an appreciative expression. "Honestly, Gil...if you were my type..._mmmmm_."

Grissom mentally dismissed that little comment and tugged lightly at the collar. "You don't think it screams 'mid-life crisis'?"

Catherine raised an eyebrow. _You're dating a younger woman, Gil. If that doesn't say 'mid-life crisis', I don't know what does._ But out loud, she answered the opposite: "Nope. Not a bit. Why don't you buy it?"

"I don't know..." Grissom mumbled to himself. "What if Sara just laughs at me? She might think I look stupid..." He was about to take the jacket off when Nick called his name from behind.

"Hey Grissom—you got a specimen jar handy? I found a bug for you."

Grissom turned around, expecting to see an actual insect of some kind. But his eyes widened in surprise and amusement when he caught sight of Sara and her antennae headband.

"No jar in the world could capture a 'bug' so beautiful," he said with a loving smile, extending his hand to her. "I'll just have to keep a good hold on it."

Sara smiled back, linking her fingers with his. "Or simply give the 'bug' no reason to want to escape."

"That, too."

Sara fingered the collar of the leather jacket Grissom hadn't taken back off yet. "I like this. Are you going to buy it?"

"Do you think I should?" Grissom asked uncertainly.

Sara glanced at the price tag. "It's seventy-five bucks. That's actually a pretty good bargain." She looked him up and down with a smile, taking note of how the black leather nicely complemented the dark blue denim of his jeans. "If you like it, I think you should get it."

"Then I will," he decided firmly.

Sara gave him a kiss. "Good."

The group of four located Warrick, then moved to the cash register to pay for their things.

The girl behind the counter — _Mandy!_ as her name tag cheerfully identified her — sent a very strange expression in Warrick's direction while she rang up the price of the beanie hat.

"It's for a _friend_," Warrick explained stiffly, not wanting even a complete stranger to think he would wear such a thing.

"Uh huh," she replied disbelievingly, poking the silly hat into a small shopping bag and handing it back to him along with the receipt.

She didn't bat an eyelash while charging Sara for the headband, though, as she was too preoccupied with giving flirty little glances to Nick, who stood off to the side.

Had they been in Vegas, Nick would have asked her out on the spot. But at the moment he wasn't even sure which of the fifty U.S. states they were currently in, and he sadly reminded himself that long-distance dating was probably not such a good idea.

* * *

Grissom put his new jacket in Catherine's vehicle for the time being, since it was really too warm outside to wear it for very long.

Catherine and Warrick left their purchases in the car, too.

Nick hadn't bought anything, so he didn't contribute to the small pile of 'souvenirs'.

Sara continued to wear her antennae headband, ignoring the funny looks Catherine kept giving her.

"Is anybody else feeling kinda hungry again?" Nick asked his companions.

"Already?" Sara asked in surprise. "You just ate breakfast an hour ago."

"Actually, it was _two_ hours ago. We were in that store for a long time. It's almost twelve o'clock noon ." As if to prove his point, Nick's stomach grumbled loudly.

"Now that you mention it, I'm a little hungry again, too," Grissom admitted.

Catherine shrugged. "I'm just thirsty."

"We also need to figure out where we are so we can plan accordingly," Warrick added. "We're starting to lose our time now."

Sara provided a solution. "Well...why don't you three find something to eat and drink at that little restaurant over there," she said to Grissom, Nick and Catherine. "And Warrick and I can find out exactly where we are."

Everyone agreed to that, and so the group split and headed in two separate directions.

* * *

"You know what I've noticed about this town?" Sara asked as she and Warrick strolled along the sidewalk looking for clues as to the official name of the town.

"No...what?"

"There aren't any signs anywhere. Except for the store fronts and cafés, I mean. But I haven't seen one single piece of evidence to indicate that this town has a _name_."

"You're right," Warrick responded with furrowed eyebrows. "I didn't even really think about it before, but you know how usually when you enter a new town or state there are billboards advertising the area? Saying things like, 'Welcome to Utah', for instance?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah, I didn't see anything like that. Did you?"

"Nope."

"I haven't seen any place that might sell road maps, either," Sara added. "Not even a gas station."

"No gas station?" Warrick echoed. "I hope that vehicle of Catherine's has a big enough gas tank."

"Let's just ask somebody where we are."

"Yeah." Warrick looked around for someone nearby. "Uh, Sara? Where did everybody go?"

"Okay, what's the deal here?" Sara asked in confusion, also looking around. "First, there are no signs...now all the people in this town just disappear at noon ?"

"Maybe we're in Brigadoon," Warrick suggested with a grin. "You know, that little village that appears in the mists once every hundred years?"

"I hardly think we're in the highlands of Scotland ," Sara responded knowingly, having been quite familiar with that particular fairy-tale story. "Besides, towns don't just vanish into the fog like that in real life."

Warrick simply grinned at her. "You'll believe in Spontaneous Human Combustion, but not vanishing towns?"

Sara ignored him and visually scanned the area once more. "Oh, look—there's someone right there," she pointed out one rather elderly man shuffling toward them along the sidewalk.

"Good. You ask him." Warrick gave her a gentle push toward the man.

With a quick glare for Warrick, Sara stopped the elderly man. "Excuse me, sir? Could you be so kind as to tell us where we are?"

The old man squinted at them, then glanced around to look for anyone listening in. Satisfied that there were no eavesdroppers nearby, he motioned Warrick and Sara to come closer.

In a low voice, as if he was telling a secret, the elderly man whispered, "You're on planet Earth."

Warrick snickered loudly, giving Sara's bouncy headband a gentle nudge with his fingers.

Sara scoffed, her face coloring slightly as she elbowed Warrick. With forced politeness, she thanked the elderly man and quickly turned away.

As he followed her down the sidewalk, Warrick just couldn't help teasing her. "I wonder if Grissom knows that he's dating an alien."

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

Exercising their valued investigative skills, they searched high and low for any evidence of the town's name.

But their search proved relatively fruitless, for the only piece of information they turned up was a single telephone number listed on the deli receipt from Nick's egg roll, Grissom's milkshake, and Catherine's diet Coke.

"There's not even an address," Catherine complained tiredly. "Just their phone number, and what they charged us."

"There's gotta be something seriously wrong with this town," Warrick stated uneasily. "It's just not _normal_."

"A lot of towns aren't 'normal', Warrick," Grissom rebutted. "That doesn't necessarily mean there's something _wrong_ with them."

"Why don't we just go back in the deli and ask someone where we are?" Nick suggested logically.

"Yeah, let's go," Sara agreed. Remembering the odd response she had received from that one old man on the sidewalk, she lightly poked Warrick in the arm. "It's your turn."

Warrick shrugged and stepped up to the deli counter. "Excuse me, ma'am? Could you please tell us what town we're in?"

"Well, if you go stand by that tree in the Town Square , you'll be exactly in the middle of Nowhere," Tera the deli lady answered knowingly.

"We're in the middle of nowhere?" Sara echoed in disbelief. "Oh, come on...we've got to be _somewhere_!"

"No...this used to be Somewhere, but now it's Nowhere," Tera informed them. "In fact, it's been Nowhere for the past six years or so...ever since Mayor Nameless resigned and Dr. Patient appointed himself Mayor instead."

"There's a doctor in this town?" Catherine piped up with interest. "How old is he? Is he single?"

Warrick frowned at her.

"Oh, I'd say he's about thirty or so...and he's definitely single," Tera replied. She lowered her voice and half-whispered, "He's a bit loopy, though, if you know what I mean."

"Heh...how can he _not_ be loopy, living in this town?" Warrick muttered.

"Well at least we're not Anywhere!" Tera retorted, highly offended by Warrick's remark. "That place isn't even _worthy_ of being called a town!"

"Wait—are you saying there's a town nearby called 'Anywhere'?" Grissom inquired curiously.

"Yeah, it's a few miles that way," Tera answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I swear, you can smell that place half a mile away."

"And that would put us..._where?"_ Catherine prodded impatiently.

Tera scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I just told you that you're in the middle of Nowhere."

Catherine's forehead wrinkled in thought as she looked at the deli lady. "You mean this town is actually _named_ 'Nowhere'?"

"Duh!" Tera huffed, annoyed at their ignorance. "I thought I made that clear. You're in Nowhere, Idaho ."

"Idaho," Sara repeated, wrapping an arm around Grissom's waist. "Well, at least we know what _state_ we're in now."

"Yeah, besides the state of confusion," Grissom replied with a smile, pulling Sara comfortably against his side.

Mindful of the rapidly approaching evening, Catherine posed another question. "So are there any hotels in Nowhere, Idaho ?"

Tera shook her head. "No hotels. Just a campground."

Catherine grimaced. She had been hoping to avoid camping on the ground again. Not only did the ground always feel like very lumpy concrete—but this time they didn't even have sleeping bags with them.

"And where would we find this campground?" Nick questioned.

"Just go down the main road there and turn left, then turn right where the road forks, then turn left one more time," Tera instructed. "It's owned by Farmer Bob."

"Is there a gas station in this town?" Sara asked. "Cath's car is probably running on fumes by now. We haven't stopped for fuel since we first started out."

Tera nodded again. "Yeah, Farmer Bob has a gas station. It's the only one in Nowhere."

* * *

'Farmer Bob' turned out to be a middle-aged redheaded woman named Bobbie who wore a gypsy skirt and blouse, and knee-high Indian moccasins.

Her 'campground' consisted of a green field dotted with rather large canvas teepees with doorway flaps that tied together in the middle.

Bobbie herself was quite unfriendly to the group, spoke in halting English, and insisted that only one of the six assembled teepees was available for the night.

"Looks to me like they're _all_ empty," Warrick contradicted as they stood at the entrance to the field.

Bobbie gave him a piercing stare. "Six empty...but _one_ open." Pointing at the five travelers, she demanded forcefully, "You share."

"Why do all five of us have to share one?" Catherine questioned, failing to see any logic in it. "For the price you charge, we should get _two_."

The odd teepee owner glared at Catherine, her nostrils flaring at the indignation of being questioned by strangers. "_My_ ground—_—my _rule!" she snapped angrily.

The CSIs took two hurried steps backward.

Wide-eyed in shock and mild fear, Catherine sputtered, "Fine—we'll share!"

Her anger quickly subsiding, Bobbie nodded once and stalked past them, gesturing for them to follow.

"Yours!" she declared firmly, pointing at a corner teepee near a lopsided wooden outhouse.

Sara shrugged in acceptance of the situation. "At least we're close to a bathroom."

"Yes, bathroom," Bobbie agreed. "If door get stuck, push hard." And with that, she marched back through the green field and disappeared inside her low-ceilinged 'office'.

Grissom stepped into their temporary abode, raising an eyebrow at the items arranged on the floor. "Four blankets and four pillows...for _five_ people."

Sara came to stand beside him, also raising an eyebrow. "Well, there's no way I'm asking 'Farmer Bob' for an extra blanket and pillow. She's liable to explode if someone asks her for anything."

Grissom nodded in concurrence. "You can share with me."

Nick, Catherine, and Warrick also filed in, each of them stopping to observe their new surroundings.

"There are mints on the pillows," Catherine stated with some amusement.

"Okay, this town is seriously starting to freak me out," Warrick informed his companions, picking up one of the mints and examining its exterior.

"I wouldn't eat those if I were you, man," Nick warned him.

Sara also picked up a mint and tapped her fingernail against its surface. "You couldn't eat them even if you wanted to—I think they're petrified."

"Ugh." Warrick scooped up the other mints and moved to toss them outside. Upon opening the doorway flap, however, he got sidetracked when he realized how far away their vehicle was from their teepee. "Aww, man. All our stuff is on the other side of the field."

"So walk to the car and park it over here," Catherine answered sensibly, handing him the ring of keys.

"Yes, master," Warrick intoned with mock stoicism, obediently stepping into the grass.

* * *

Sara and Catherine took turns getting changed into their pajamas in the crooked outhouse while the guys took turns using the teepee as a dressing room.

Clad in her sleeping attire, Catherine waited outside the door as Sara now occupied the small building. When the guys joined her by the door, Catherine knocked lightly on the splintering wood. "Sara, there's a line forming out here. You wanna hurry it up?"

"I'd love to," Sara answered from inside. "But the door seems to be stuck and I can't get out."

"Kick it," Nick suggested.

"With flimsy sandals on my feet? I don't think so!"

Grissom stepped forward and grabbed the door handle. "You push it, and I'll pull," he instructed to the outhouse captive.

Sara pushed with all her might, and Grissom pulled as hard as he could.

The wooden door snapped off its warped hinges and tumbled to the ground as Sara careened through the doorway and crashed into Grissom.

Nick gaped at the door lying in the grass. "You broke the bathroom."

"That was _not_ our fault," Grissom defended himself and Sara. They helped each other stand up, then Grissom bent down again and lifted an edge of the door. "We can prop it against the doorway for now, and offer to pay for the damages tomorrow."

Warrick and Nick pitched in to help Grissom, and once they got the door adequately placed, they too were able to take turns finding some much-needed bladder relief.

The women left them there in the shadows of dwindling sunlight and ambled sleepily back to the teepee.

Catherine entered the triangular structure, immediately spying a little green creature curled up on the pillow she'd claimed for herself.

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Sara...a rubber snake? Sorry to disappoint you, but it's gonna take a lot more than that to scare me on _this_ trip." She stepped forward to remove the snake, but Sara's hand on her arm held her back.

"Cath...I didn't put that there," Sara denied with a shake of her head.

"Yeah, sure," Catherine scoffed disbelievingly. "Just like you _didn't_ throw that fake spider at me on our last camping trip?"

"When would I have had the opportunity to sneak in here and put a rubber snake on your pillow?" Sara argued. "The only time I wasn't with everyone else is when I was stuck in that rotten outhouse."

Catherine reluctantly conceded that Sara was being truthful. "You think the guys might have left it? I know Nick likes to do pranks the same as you do."

Sara shook her head, peering down at the presumably fake snake. "I dunno...it looks awfully real..."

Catherine also casually studied the green creature, wondering if she could possibly dust it for fingerprints to see who really left it there.

Two pairs of eyes widened as the 'rubber' snake suddenly lifted its small green head.

"Gah!" Catherine jumped behind Sara. "It _is_ real! Kill it! _Kill it!"_

"Kill it? It's just a little garter snake...it's harmless!"

"I don't care!" Catherine hollered. "It's a _snake_—kill it!"

Now Sara rolled her eyes. "How come you don't act like this when you see a mouse?"

"Because mice don't have big _fangs!_"

Sara snickered at her colleague's uncharacteristic panicking. She grabbed a nearby pillow and stripped off the cover to use as a snake-catching bag. "I'm not killing it. But since our little green friend doesn't seem inclined to move any time soon...I guess I'm going to have to catch it."

"You go right ahead," Catherine encouraged wholeheartedly, backing out of the teepee and plowing directly into Warrick.

"Whoa, what's the rush? Where's the fire?" he asked, gripping her arms lightly.

"It's not a fire—it's a _snake_ and Sara's in there catching it," Catherine responded.

Grissom gaped at her in disgust. "You left Sara to catch a snake by herself? What if it's poisonous?" he demanded, fearing the safety of his beloved Sara.

"It's not poisonous," Sara answered calmly, emerging from the teepee entrance with a slightly lumpy pillowcase in her hand. "It's just an innocent little garter snake looking for some company."

Catherine wrinkled her nose. "Well it can look _elsewhere_."

Sara ignored her and moved toward a cluster of trees to release the captive garter snake.


	5. Day Four

**DAY FOUR**

Early in the morning, Grissom was woken by the movements of the brunette who occupied half of his pillow. He opened his eyes and squinted at the feminine shoulder that was now wedged halfway underneath his own.

"Sara? What are you doing?" he whispered.

"I'm cold," she mumbled back, cuddling up tightly against his side. "It's warm under you."

Grissom chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head. "You're burrowing like a gopher."

"Well, I'm _cold_," Sara repeated sleepily, snuggling into his comfy, protective arms.

"You feel pretty warm to me," he answered with a smile, speaking softly to avoid waking the others just yet. After a quick glance at his wristwatch, he added, "It should be light outside soon. You want to get up early and watch the sunrise with me?"

"Sure," she whispered back, already losing her grasp on the last vestiges of sleep.

Grissom got up and shuffled around in the dark, searching for their shoes. Locating them near the entrance flap, he handed Sara her pair and slipped his feet into his own.

With the blanket wrapped firmly around her shoulders, Sara stepped gingerly over her sleeping colleagues and followed Grissom out of the teepee.

Touched by the icy fingers of the early morning air, Grissom shivered involuntarily. He slid an arm around Sara's waist, snagging her blanket with his other hand and pulling a corner of it over his chilly body.

Sara gave her end an impish tug, deliberately causing the blanket to fall right back off of Grissom's shoulders.

"Hey!" he protested, immediately snatching the fabric back in a firmer grip than before. "Didn't your parents ever teach you to share?"

"Nope," Sara responded with a grin. "Mama told me I shouldn't share my blanket with a man unless I was at least _engaged_ to him first..."

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "Hinting at something, Ms. Sidle?"

"Hinting?" Sara echoed with feigned innocence. "Me? Whatever gave you that idea?" Tossing him another smile, she stole the blanket again and sat down on a nearby tree stump.

Grissom shook his head in amusement. Straddling the tree stump, he sat down behind Sara and wound his arms loosely around her waist.

But before Sara could lean back into his arms, he whipped her blanket away once more with a flourish and wrapped it around his own shoulders again.

Sara gave him a playfully accusing look and pulled his arms back around her, this time encasing them both inside the somewhat scratchy blanket.

The sun appeared slowly, rising gracefully behind the distant range of Idaho mountains and sending subtle beams of light down to the surface of the chilled terrain.

A rustling in some of the nearby brush drew their attention to the left side of the teepee grounds, and a lone figure emerged in the rays of sunlight illuminating the area.

Sara leaned forward, squinting her eyes at the silhouette of a four-legged creature with a long snout and bushy tail. "Grissom? Is that a wolf?"

"I'm not sure," he answered warily, fully prepared to dash back to the relative safety of their teepee with Sara firmly in tow lest that animal come any closer than necessary.

But the furry quadruped paid them no attention and trotted confidently across the field toward the crooked little outhouse.

In the increasing sunshine, the two humans were able to determine that the furry visitor was not a wolf after all.

Sara relaxed and leaned back against him. "False alarm...just a stray dog."

"A nosy stray dog," Grissom observed as the vagrant canine pushed its snout into a large gap behind the semi-closed outhouse door.

The door creaked once, then clattered to the ground in a small cloud of dust.

Startled but unharmed, the dog sprang away like a timid deer. It returned just as quickly, though, and barked courageously at the splintered inanimate wood.

"He conquered the outhouse," Sara quipped with a laugh. "Uh oh...I think he's also provoked the wrath of Farmer Bob," she added as the odd campground owner flung open her cabin door and stalked angrily across the field.

Bobbie kicked a clod of dirt in the general direction of the barking dog, cursing in what sounded like a Russian dialect. Then she lifted the door off the ground, pulled a large roll of duct tape from where it was tucked under her arm, and proceeded to reattach the door with it.

"Did she just do what I think she did?" Grissom asked, completely stupefied as he watched Farmer Bob stomp back into her cabin.

"Yep," Sara answered, equally amazed by what they'd just witnessed.

They couldn't help but snicker as they looked again toward the newly-taped outhouse.

"It looks ridiculous now," Sara stated.

Grissom snorted in amusement. "It looked ridiculous _before_."

With a grin, she nodded her agreement. "It might be safer for us if we don't tell Farmer Bob that _we're_ the ones who broke her outhouse. You never know what _else_ she might do with her duct tape."

"She might tape us to our teepee and let fire ants loose all over our feet," Grissom suggested playfully.

Sara chuckled. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? It would just give you an excuse to study fire ants up close."

Grissom shrugged one shoulder. "Well, aside from the unpleasant sting of their biting, it could be very educational."

Sara wrinkled her nose. "You _would_ think so."

* * *

Bright rays of sunlight snuck through the teepee flaps and danced mischievously around Warrick's closed eyelids. As his mind fought against consciousness, his bladder decided to create an uncomfortable distraction that he really couldn't ignore for very long.

He sat up rather stiffly, rubbing at a few minor sore spots in his back. Rising to his feet, he twisted the top half of his body to the right until he felt a small but familiar _pop!_ in his lower back.

Momentarily satisfied, Warrick stepped carefully over Catherine's lightly snoring head and shuffled toward the area he was sure he had thrown his shoes the night before.

Occupied with stretching the rest of his muscles and joints while also seeking out his footwear, Warrick suddenly remembered one certain fact that he had learned on the first camping trip with his colleagues: Nicholas Stokes had a bad habit of kicking in his sleep.

Too late, Warrick realized just how close he was standing to Nick's active feet. Before he could rescue himself, one of Nick's feet delivered a clumsy but potent strike directly to Warrick's shin.

"Gah!" He staggered back, yet somehow managed to keep his balance on one foot while awkwardly clutching at his now injured limb. Snatching up an unoccupied pillow, he gave a swift whack to Nick's offending feet.

Nick's only response to that was to mumble in his sleep and roll over onto his stomach.

With his full bladder reminding him of the reason he was up and moving around in the first place, Warrick sighed, put on his shoes, and limped out of the teepee.

On route to the outhouse, he passed Grissom and Sara—who were still cuddling on their tree stump—and acknowledged them with a "Hey".

"Oh, hey," Sara called after him. "You might need extra duct tape."

Warrick paused and looked back at her in half-awake confusion. "What?"

"Duct tape," Grissom repeated with a smile.

Warrick stared at them both uncomprehendingly. "Duct tape? What for?"

"For the outhouse," Sara clarified simply.

While trying unsuccessfully to make sense of their words in his head, Warrick also wondered briefly if Sara and Grissom had been sampling any local pond water lately. He figured that it might explain their new fixation on duct tape.

"I'm more concerned about there being _toilet paper_ in the outhouse," he answered finally, not entirely sure that his two lovebird colleagues were still one hundred percent mentally sane.

"All right then," Sara answered with a shrug. "But don't say we didn't warn you."

Warrick just shook his head in wonder, resuming his short trek to the outhouse. As he neared the small building, certain parts of the door seemed to stand out from the rest, and Warrick's brow furrowed as he took a closer look.

"What the heck? Duct tape on an outhouse?" He touched one of the wrinkly grey strips acting as hinges, and couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. _"That's_ what they were talking about. Well, at least I know _I'm_ not the one who's losing his marbles."

With another snicker, he carefully opened the door and ducked inside.

Before leaving, Warrick pulled a strip of tape off the door and attached it sticky-side-up to the circular wooden cutout of the 'seat'. _Nick ought to enjoy that when he sits down_, he thought to himself with mean satisfaction.

Sauntering coolly back to his campmates, he called out, "Hey Nick! Better use the outhouse now before the door falls off again!"

"Oh no he's not!" Catherine shouted from the teepee doorway. "I get it first!"

And before Warrick could stop her, Catherine had made a mad dash across the field and claimed the small outhouse for herself.

"Oh, crap," Warrick groaned. "Why did you let her go ahead of you?" he demanded of Nick.

"Hey, man, don't yell at me," Nick responded, confused as to why it was important for him to use the outhouse before Catherine. "I grew up with five older sisters—I learned very early on that you do not stand in the way between a woman and her bathroom."

Warrick dropped his head into his hands. "Catherine's gonna kill me."

* * *

Catherine sat down, promptly getting a half-circle of duct tape stuck to her derriere. Too sleepy still to really notice it, though, she finished her business and pulled her clothing back in place.

Only after smoothing the fabric out of mere habit did she notice an unnatural bulkiness on her backside. "What the heck?"

Twisting around to see what the problem was, she pulled a strip of grey sticky tape out of the waistband of her pants. "I've been _taped?_"

She pulled the rest off her rump, wincing as the adhesive was ripped from her delicate skin. Wadding up the sticky mess, Catherine felt a strong urge to slap someone. _Or at least read them the riot act,_ she added mentally.

But as she glared at the tape wad in her hand, a different idea formed in her mind. "Revenge...yes, revenge is so much better." With an evil chuckle, she pulled the crinkles back out of the tape and smoothed it out as well as she could.

Hiding the strip of tape behind her back, Catherine exited the outhouse. "Who used the toilet right before I did?" she inquired archly.

"I think Warrick did," Sara answered. "Didn't he?" she asked Grissom.

"He did," Grissom confirmed. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I'm gonna kill him!" Catherine fumed.

Hoping that a show of friendliness might dissolve some of Catherine's anger, Warrick gave her a nice smile.

Catherine raised an eyebrow at him, not amused in the least. "Oh, you think it's funny? Make poor little me into 'Queen of the Duct Tape Throne'?"

The smile quickly slid from Warrick's face as he tried to defend himself. "I left it there for _Nick!_ You weren't supposed to go in yet!"

But Catherine was having none of it. With a gleam in her eye, she grasped the front of Warrick's shirt, yanked it up, and deftly slapped the strip of duct tape across his chest. "Enjoy," she purred with a sugar-sweet tone and a wide smile.

Warrick gaped down at the tape attached firmly to his chest hairs. "Oh…that is _so_ not cool."

* * *

"We're lost again," Nick stated firmly from his position in the front passenger seat. "That's all there is to it—we're lost."

"We're not lost," Warrick rebutted calmly as he consulted their newly-purchased road map which he'd propped up on the steering wheel after parking the car on the side of the road.

"Then where are we?" Nick challenged.

Warrick ignored him.

Sara sighed to herself, wishing Nick didn't have such a phobia about being lost. "Here we go again," she said quietly to her backseat companions.

"And he was doing so well for a while," Grissom added sadly.

"Couldn't we give him a tranquilizer to calm him down?" Catherine suggested, also getting tired of Nick's randomly compulsive panicking.

"I don't think we brought any," Sara answered her. "But maybe we can use some of that duct tape you stuck on Warrick this morning. Slap a strip across Nick's mouth, and he'll shut up."

Catherine shook her head. "Can't."

"Because it was thrown away?" Grissom took the logical assumption.

"Nope. Because it's still on Warrick's chest," Catherine explained with a grin. "Apparently he's willing to wait until he can snip his chest hairs with scissors, rather than pull the tape off inch by painful inch."

After hearing this, Sara leaned forward in her seat and asked Warrick, "Hey, why don't you just rip off the tape quickly?" With a cheeky grin, she added, "If you're too much of a chicken, I can do it for you."

Warrick looked up from his map long enough to scoff and retort, "Oh I'm sure you'd _love_ to torture me like that. You and Catherine, both."

"That's what friends are for," Sara quipped, giving him another grin and settling back in her seat.

"We're lost," Nick muttered to himself, semi-oblivious of the conversations going on around him. "We're lost and he knows it. But does he admit it? Nooooo..."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Nicky's getting cranky. Does Nicky need his blankie? Maybe take a little nappy?"

Nick shot her a hurt look. "Be nice, Catherine? Just for once?"

"I _am_ being nice, considering the circumstance I'm in," Catherine defended herself with sugar-sweet condescension.

"Would everyone please be quiet?" Grissom grunted at them. "There's a cricket outside somewhere, and I'm _trying_ to listen to the mating call that it's chirping."

Warrick gave a muffled snort of laughter. _Typical Grissom, listening to bug mating calls._

Catherine buried her face in her hands, wishing these people she was currently on vacation with were just a little bit more normal.

Sara looked at Grissom strangely with one eyebrow arched. _Is he planning on capturing it and making cricket babies or something?_

Nick simply pouted because he just knew they were lost and nobody but him seemed to care.

As per Grissom's grumpy request, the occupants in the vehicle were silent for a while...until they heard a small noise and then smelled the unmistakable odor that immediately followed.

Sara wrinkled her nose. "Grissom! Couldn't you have gotten out of the car to do that?"

Grissom was highly insulted. "Hey, don't look at me! _Nick_ is the one who ate chili beans for breakfast!"

Nick turned red, but defended his innocence. "It wasn't me! And even if it was, I still have the decency to move away from other people when I know I'm gonna have gas!"

All eyes turned to Warrick.

"Don't even _think_ it!" Warrick commanded. "I'd _never_ pass gas in front of ladies. My grandma raised me to have good manners!"

Nick turned around in his seat and fixed Sara with a disgusted stare. "She who smelt it, dealt it."

"Got any evidence to back that up, Nick?" Sara challenged tartly.

"My nose is _filled_ with the evidence, thank you!" Nick hollered indignantly. "And there are three other people here who can testify to it!"

" 'Innocent until proven guilty', Nick," Grissom reminded him sternly. "We don't know for sure that it was Sara."

"Thank you, Grissom."

"Why are you defending her?" Nick demanded of Grissom. "Have you already forgotten she blamed _you_ for it first?"

"Guys, chill," Catherine intervened with a firm tone. "It was me. And it's a natural part of life, so deal with it."

"Well, no offense Catherine," Warrick responded. "But I think I'm gonna deal with it _outside_."

"Me, too," Nick added.

"And me," Sara also answered, reaching across Grissom to quickly unlock and open one of the back doors.

Grissom obediently exited the vehicle, with Sara gently but impatiently pushing him from behind.

All alone now in the smelly backseat sat Catherine. But not for very long, of course. "Hey guys — wait for me! Warrick! Nick! Grissom! Sara! Wait up!"

"You know what?" Sara asked nobody in particular. "I think I'll take a little walk." She removed her camera from her backpack and looped the cord around her wrist.

"Do you mind having some company?" Grissom asked with a smile.

Sara returned the smile. "Not at all."

But their mutual hope for a private stroll together was dimmed when Nick cheerfully announced that he wanted to tag along, too.

Warrick watched them go, then he unfolded his large road map and smoothed it over the hood of the SUV.

"You've got it turned wrong," Catherine informed Warrick as she hovered near his elbow.

"No, I don't," he denied, leaning over to read the map's contents.

"Yes, you do," she insisted. "North is _that_ way."

"That's north_west_."

"It's more north than where you've got it."

"It's fine where it is."

Convinced that she was right, though, Catherine grabbed a corner of the map and adjusted it accordingly.

Warrick gripped another corner and snatched it back to where he wanted it.

Catherine moved it again, this time holding it down to her preference with both hands.

"Get off it, woman!"

"You know I'm right!"

"I know _I'm_ right!"

She stubbornly held on to her side of the map while Warrick attempted to line it up once more to his specifications.

"Catherine, let go! You're gonna—"

_Rip!_

She gasped and released the map, but it was too late.

Warrick stared in disbelief. "You tore my map!"

"It was an accident!"

"Right down the middle!"

"I'm _sorry!_"

"That map cost me twelve bucks!" Warrick grunted angrily.

"I didn't mean to ruin it!" Catherine cried.

"That was our _one and only map!_"

"If you'd listened to me in the first place, that wouldn't have happened!"

Knowing he was well on his way to seeing blazing red, Warrick made a strong attempt to calm himself down. It didn't help matters that the duct tape still clinging to his chest was giving constant and obnoxious little tugs to the short hairs underneath.

He hadn't meant to yell at Catherine the way he did, but he also couldn't take all the blame for the aggravation. She _did_ mess with his map, after all.

With a deeply cleansing breath, Warrick mildly took his half of the map and smoothed it down again over the hood of Catherine's vehicle. "May I please see the rest of the map?" he inquired in a forced tranquil tone.

Catherine picked it up from the ground and meekly handed it over. "I _am_ sorry," she offered one more time.

"It's okay," Warrick soothed with more composure than he really felt. "It was an accident. You didn't mean to do it, and we still have both pieces."

"It wasn't just _me_," Catherine mumbled under her breath.

* * *

Sara and Grissom ambled side-by-side down the dusty road, both of them wishing the third component of their trio wasn't following them.

Grissom glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, Nick was keeping up with them—practically right on their heels, Grissom thought.

Sara peered sideways at Grissom, as if she were reading his thoughts.

Together they increased their pace just slightly, gradually moving a little further ahead of Nick.

Nick noticed the growing distance between himself and his other companions, but he didn't mention it out loud. A simple hop, skip, and jump brought him toe-to-heel with them again.

"Ow!" Sara yelped, stumbling into Grissom as Nick accidentally trod on her heel. "God, Nick! That hurt!"

"Sorry," Nick apologized, swerving to one side so that he could walk next to Sara now instead of behind her. "I wish I'd brought my camera," he remarked. "I could get some awesome nature shots here."

Sara looked down at the camera dangling from her own wrist. She pulled the strap free and shoved the camera at Nick. "Here. Knock yourself out. Just don't break it."

Nick beamed at her. "Thanks, Sara!"

Sara grinned in satisfaction as Nick finally veered off in his own direction.

"I thought he'd never leave," Grissom commented, reaching for Sara's hand.

"Maybe now we can do a little 'sight-seeing' of our own, if you know what I mean," Sara suggested flirtatiously, pulling Grissom away from the road and leading him behind a wide tree trunk.

"I've always believed in enjoying beautiful 'scenery'," Grissom agreed wholeheartedly as he wrapped both arms around her.

But they hadn't gotten to do anything more than kiss before they heard Nick calling out for them close by.

Sara pouted. "He's back already?"

"Yep," Grissom responded with an irritated grunt. "I was hoping he'd be hot on the trail of a moose or something by now."

"Sara! Grissom! Where are you?" Nick called again.

"This isn't fair," Sara sighed to herself as she straightened her clothes.

Grissom quickly adjusted his own shirt, refastening the two undone buttons at the top and tucking the bottom hem back into his jeans waistband. Following Sara, he stepped out into the open.

"You've already got my camera," Sara reminded Nick tartly. "What else could you possibly need from me?"

Nick sheepishly handed her the camera. "It ran out of film. I don't have any extra with me."

Sara glared down at the rectangular piece of technology in her hand. "Stupid camera," she muttered.

There was nothing else for them to do except to go back to the SUV.

_Correction,_ Sara thought ruefully. _Grissom and I _**_would_**_ have something to do, if Nick wasn't tagging along with us._

They returned to their vehicle, finding Warrick hunched over the two separate halves of his map on the hood.

"What happened here?" Grissom wanted to know.

"Catherine happened," Warrick grunted.

Catherine narrowed her eyes at them all, but remained silent where she stood.

"So what's the best way home?" Sara asked.

"I don't know yet," Warrick answered coolly. "I'm thinking."

And he was still thinking ten minutes later when a pickup truck came to a rumbling stop near them on the road.

One of the two children in the passenger side of the truck cab rolled down a window, and their father greeted the five CSIs through it.

"You folks having car trouble?"

"No car trouble," Warrick answered. "We're just lost."

Nick punched his arm. "You told me we _aren't _lost."

Warrick shrugged. "I lied."

Nick huffed in disgust. "I knew it."

"Lost, huh?" the man echoed with a knowing nod. "Been there, done that. Well, lemme park over there and I'll see if I can help."

He pulled his truck ahead of Catherine's vehicle and shut off the engine. As he hopped out of the cab, a small boy and girl followed suit.

"My name's Jed Thompson," the man told them, and shook hands with each of them in turn. "So, where are you folks trying to get to?"

"Las Vegas, Nevada," Grissom told him, taking charge of the situation.

"Las Vegas?" Mr. Thompson echoed. "City of Sin? Why on earth would ya'll want to go there?"

"Because we live there," Sara put in logically. "We're on our way home."

"Oh." Mr. Thompson had the decency to look embarrassed. "Home...of course. I suppose that does make a difference, then."

"We have a map," Warrick said, showing him the mangled mess spread out on top of the vehicle's hood. "But it's not doing us much good because we're not really sure where we are in the first place."

"Okie dokie...let's see." Mr. Thompson leaned over the map to take a look. "Well your main problem is that this road we're on isn't even shown on most maps that are made here. I don't know exactly why; I guess it's just a road that's easily overlooked or forgotten."

"Are we close to anything you can identify on the map, though?" Catherine asked. "Other roads? A river? Anything?"

Mr. Thompson scratched his chin. "Well...if you keep going about a mile or two more down this road, you'll come to an intersection of a few more roads. You see it here on the map? I think you need to take this road here. And then hop onto this one, and go at least three more miles in this direction, then you should reach a good-sized town. Or you could even take this little cut-off, go down the old logging roads, and bypass the town if you wanted to."

Meanwhile, as Warrick and Mr. Thompson discussed the routes on the map, the Thompson children kept everyone else distracted by their incessant chatter.

Nick was casually studying the map over Warrick's shoulder when the two young faces appeared at his elbow.

"You're cute," the little girl boldly told Nick.

Honestly surprised by that, Nick blushed slightly, stammering, "Umm, uhh...thanks...I think..."

"I'm Ashley Jane Thompson," the girl continued. "This is my brother Robbie Jason Thompson. He's seven, same as me. How old are you?"

_Much too old for you, little girl,_ Nick answered internally. Verbally, he responded with a not-so-heartfelt placating smile. "I'm thirty-three."

"Wow. You're old like my dad is," Robbie stated matter-of-factly.

Nick chose to ignore that last comment, silently telling himself that he was _not_ 'old'. Ordinarily he liked kids and their candid honesty, but this time he figured he really shouldn't have to suffer through their curious chatter all by himself.

"Hey, she's also thirty-three," he informed the boy and girl with a nod in Sara's direction.

Ashley and Robbie immediately looked with interest at Sara. "She is?"

"Yep. Isn't that right, Sara?" Nick asked loudly for Sara's benefit.

Sara looked up. "What?"

"You're thirty-three, right?" Nick repeated.

She narrowed her eyes, slightly suspicious of the reason behind the question. "Yeah...why?"

"Are you twins?" Ashley asked her and Nick. "You look like twins."

Sara's suspicion was gone, now replaced with amusement. "No," she answered the child. "We're not twins."

"Why not?" Robbie wanted to know. "You're both the same age."

"We're the same age, yes," Nick agreed. "But we're not even related to each other."

"Oh." Ashley accepted that answer, but couldn't help echoing her brother. "Why not?"

"Because my parents aren't the same people as Nick's parents are," Sara explained simply.

"But why not?" Ashley and Robbie chorused together, both of them giggling at the irritation evident on the adults' faces.

Sara wisely sidetracked the children by drawing their attention elsewhere. "Hey, you see that man and woman right there?" she asked, pointing at Grissom and Catherine who stood no more than three feet away. "Why don't you ask them if they're related to each other?"

Robbie shrugged. "Okay."

Ashley followed her twin around the adults and to the other side of the SUV's front bumper. "Is she your sister?" she asked Grissom, pointing a finger at Catherine.

"No," Grissom answered with a simple shake of his head.

"Is she your mother?" Robbie asked innocently.

Catherine's eyes widened in shock and her jaw dropped. " 'Mother' ! Do _I_ look old enough to be _his mother? !"_

Sara and Nick failed miserably in their attempt to stifle their snorts of laughter.

The little girl merely grinned at Catherine's outburst. "I don't know," she answered with a giggle. "How old are you?"

"That's a question you should never ask a lady," Warrick advised the children.

"Maybe she's his auntie," the little boy whispered a bit loudly to his sister.

Catherine's lower lip trembled. "Warrick, they think I'm _old!_" And giving a slightly exaggerated gasp of emotional pain, she flung herself into the arms of the nearest male.

"Ow," Nick winced as the blonde nearly squeezed all the air out of his lungs. "Um, Catherine?"

Realizing quickly that the voice belonging to the body she clung to was _not_ the one she wanted to hear, she jerked away. "You're not Warrick," she accused with a light shove.

Locating the man she'd intended to grab the first time, Catherine willingly let Warrick's arms close around her protectively.

The children gave each other wide-eyed looks, then giggled impishly. "She's funny."

Mr. Thompson, previously unaware of his children's mischief, finally took note of their pestering the others. "Ashley, Robbie—get back in the truck now. It's time to go." To the CSIs, he said, "Yep, I think that's probably the best way to go if you want to get out of the woods before nightfall."

"Alright, then," Warrick said in acceptance. "Thanks, friend."

"Glad to help," Mr. Thompson answered. He shook everyone's hand once more, then headed back to his truck. "Oh, and be sure to watch for any large animals," he warned them before starting the engine. "Bears, especially. They've got a habit of just standing in the middle of the road like they've got all day to move, even when cars are coming at 'em."

He drove away slowly, in no particular hurry himself.

"Well, I guess it's back on the road we go," Warrick mused, taking a step toward the SUV. "And you can let go of me now, Catherine."

"Oh. Sorry." She released her hold on his nice strong arms, but snagged her keys out of his pants pocket before he could walk away. "I'm driving. You navigate."

* * *

"What a crappy road!" Catherine fretted nervously as she steered her SUV haphazardly down the rutted decline. "It's a wonder my tires are still on the vehicle!"

They dodged a large tree root that was breaking through the pavement, bounced over several potholes, nearly sideswiped a boulder, and finally rolled to a swaying stop at the end of it all.

"W-wow," Sara commented shakily. "That r-road made my t-teeth v-v-vibrate."

"It's not even a _road_," Nick responded. "It's a string of cement thrown between some trees!"

"And that's probably why it's not on any maps," Warrick added logically.

"So where are we now?" Grissom asked them.

"Isn't that Nick's line?" Catherine snapped. "Don't _you_ start it up now about getting lost." She pressed the gas pedal down again, moving the vehicle off the raggedly-paved trail and coming up to a smoother crossroad.

"Left or right?" she asked Warrick.

Warrick looked up from his less-than-helpful map. He stared down the road to the left, then meditated on the road to the right, and then looked back to the left again. "Left?" he guessed.

"Anyone else got a suggestion?" Catherine questioned the backseat occupants.

"I don't know," Sara answered. "Left, like Warrick said?"

"Left sounds good," Grissom agreed.

"Left...right...whichever direction gets us un-lost," Nick said.

"Well...left, it is." Catherine turned the SUV onto the newer road. "No guarantees it'll get us 'un-lost', though."

"This looks like a real highway," Sara surmised, scanning their newest surroundings. "Decent pavement...lines painted on the road...guardrail...road reflectors. Just no highway mile-markers."

Grissom nodded. "Well, anything's better than that other road."

"Yeah," Catherine agreed wholeheartedly. "I'm surprised it didn't puncture any of my tires."

They all murmured their concurrence.

And suddenly, they were all proven wrong.

One tire exploded under them with a tremendous sound and equal force, causing the SUV to lurch unexpectedly to one side.

Catherine slammed her foot down on the brake pedal. The vehicle screeched on its three remaining good tires, fish-tailed its back end, and came to rest across both lanes on the empty road.

The five occupants sat in their seats in stunned silence for a moment.

"What just happened?" Sara asked.

"Catherine spoke too soon—_that's_ what happened," Warrick grumbled. "She jinxed us all."

"I did not!" Catherine denied. She unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door, and jumped out to see what the damage was.

"No. _No_. No, no, _no!_" She stomped her foot hard on the pavement.

"What? What?" her four companions asked anxiously.

"I blew a tire!"

"Is that all?" Grissom asked seriously, stepping down from the backseat. At the commotion Catherine was raising, he thought something _terrible_ had happened. A blown tire was _nothing_.

"We'll fix it," he told her simply. "Every one of us knows how to change a tire, including you."

"That's not the point, Gil! This tire shouldn't have blown in the first place! It's practically brand-new!"

Grissom raised a calm hand to cover the ear Catherine was yelling into. "If it makes you feel better, I'll let you replace it with one of Eckley's tires when we get back home," he offered mildly.

Catherine irrationally kicked a fender. "I don't want Eckey's tire—I want _my_ tire!"

Sara and Nick stood back from the front war lines, while Warrick stepped in to calm the Storm of Catherine.

"Cath...calm down," he soothed. "We'll replace the blown tire with the spare, and when we get home I'll buy you a new one. Okay?"

She nodded with a clenched jaw.

"Okay." Warrick gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze, then rolled up his sleeves to get busy on the tire.

"Uh, Catherine?" Nick's voice drifted up from where he was crouched by the underside of the SUV. "Where _is_ your spare tire?"

"What do you mean, 'where's the spare'? It's under the vehicle!"

"No...no, it's not."

Absolutely positive the spare tire was still in place like it always had been before, Catherine crouched down too and pointed a finger.

She managed to get out, "It's right th—" and her jaw dropped. "Are you _kidding me?"_

Grissom and Sara exchanged wide-eyed glances, then kneeled down to look for themselves.

There was no spare tire. Just an empty carriage where the spare should have been.

Catherine stiffly straightened, looked around, took a deep breath, and demanded, _"WHERE THE HELL IS MY TIRE?" _

Her four companions winced, each of them plugging their ears with their fingers.

After the ringing in her ears stopped, Sara courageously spoke up. "It's gotta be around here somewhere. We can walk around and look for it."

"That's right," Grissom agreed. "Just treat it like a crime scene, with the tire being our crucial piece of missing evidence."

"'Crime scene'," Catherine snorted bitterly. "If I'm stuck here all night, there _will_ be a crime scene."

And so they searched. They looked high and low, left and right, north and south. But there was no tire to be found by any of them, and with disappointed faces they met back at the SUV in the middle of the road.

"Well," Warrick began in a monotone voice. "Looks like we'll be drawing straws."

"Draw straws?" Nick echoed, confused. "For what?"

"To see who goes for help." Warrick pointed to a wooden sign across the road advertising a potato farm two miles away.

No one else could think of any other options, so they went ahead and drew straws—or sticks, rather, as there weren't any actual straws around.

Nick chose a stick from the five in Warrick's closed fist. A long stick.

Catherine chose next. Also a long stick.

"How many short sticks are there?" Sara questioned.

"Just one," Warrick answered with a shrug. "I guess I should've put two, huh?"

Grissom frowned at Warrick's uncharacteristic lack of thought. Obviously none of them should go for help just by themselves. Didn't Warrick know that?

Grissom stepped up, chose a stick, and held up yet another long one.

It was Sara's turn now. She looked back and forth between the two remaining sticks, as if a close examination would reveal which stick to choose.

"Eeny, meeny, miney, moe?" Warrick suggested obnoxiously.

Sara glared at him and snatched a stick. She held it up to see, and immediately wished she'd picked the other one.

Warrick had the decency to look embarrassed that he was left with the last long stick. "You don't have to go," he told Sara. "I'll do it."

"Oh, no you don't," she responded firmly. Sure, she didn't want the job — but she also wasn't about to act the part of a weak female and let a man take over for her. "I drew the short straw — I'll walk the two miles."

"I'm going with you," Grissom informed her immediately. He knew full well that she was capable of taking care of herself, but there was still absolutely no way he'd let his Sara walk two miles on an unfamiliar road all alone.

Sara's attitude brightened instantly. With the prospect of Grissom walking with her, she was actually looking forward to it. _And if we happen to get a little _**_sidetracked_**_ on the way to find help...then so be it. _

She clasped hands with Grissom. "Well, I guess we ought to get going."

* * *

Sara stumbled her way up the grassy hill with Grissom huffing and puffing a few yards behind her. She finally crested the hill, only to stop dead in her tracks. "Oh, crap."

"What's the matter?" Grissom called up to her. "There's no farm up there?"

"Yes, there's a farm up here," Sara answered stiffly, afraid to make any movement at all. "And there's also a _skunk _up here."

"A skunk?" Grissom echoed in alarm as he neared the top. "Alive or dead?"

"Very much alive."

"Crap."

Very slowly, Grissom came to stand next to Sara at the crest of the hill.

They both stared at the skunk, who stared right back at them.

"Let's go back down the hill," Grissom suggested softly, giving a gentle tug to Sara's hand.

"Easier said than done, Grissom. My feet won't move."

Grissom frowned at her. "I don't want to stay here and get sprayed."

"Well I don't, either!" Sara exclaimed in a whisper. "But as I said, my feet will not move at the moment—neither forward nor backward."

Grissom's own feet were also planted firmly in place, but he wasn't going to admit out loud that he, too, was nervous about their situation. He eyed the farmhouse across the field from them, then looked again at the skunk in their path. "Maybe it'll get bored with us soon and move on."

"Maybe," Sara agreed uncertainly.

They waited thirty seconds, then a minute, and then two more minutes.

"It's not leaving," Sara informed Grissom with mild annoyance.

"Well it must not feel very threatened by us," Grissom mused. "It hasn't snarled, stomped its feet, or shaken its tail at us."

"But it's not _leaving_, either," Sara emphasized through clenched teeth. "Go _away_, skunk."

"Buzzard!" A man suddenly shouted from the farmhouse. "Buzzard, you leave those folks alone!"

Sara looked in the direction the voice came from, then raised a surprised eyebrow at Grissom. "Buzzard?"

"I assume that's our furry friend's name?"

"Assume nothing, Griss," Sara reminded him.

He chuckled. "Right. Sorry."

"Buzzard!" The man at the farmhouse set off on foot across the field, not appearing one bit concerned with spooking the animal and getting sprayed by any foul oils the skunk in question might possess.

To the astonishment of Sara and Grissom, the man walked right up and addressed the skunk. "Buzzard, I done told you to leave these people alone. Now quit scarin' folks, and get on home!"

And as obedient as a dog, the skunk sniffed at its master, then casually turned away and ambled off toward the farmhouse.

"Sorry 'bout that, folks," the farmer apologized with a toothy grin. "Ole Buzzard's as harmless as a kitten. He just don't know what to do when he sees a stranger."

"I take it Buzzard is your pet?" Grissom asked.

"One of my pets," the farmer agreed. "I got four, total."

"Oh...four total," Sara echoed to Grissom, trying hard to keep her disgust from showing on her face, or being heard in her voice. She tried desperately to think of something nice to say to the farmer about it. "I'm sure it helps...uh...cut down on...theft on your property? I mean...nobody wants to tangle with a..._skunk_."

"Well, that's true," the man replied with a kind smile. "Except my skunks couldn't spray anybody if they wanted to. They got no 'stink bags' anymore."

The man slapped his hands together with a sudden laugh. "Listen to me, standing here jawing to you folks, when I'm sure you didn't come here just to visit with an old stranger like me. I notice you got no car around...did it break down somewhere?"

"As a matter of fact, it did," Sara answered, relieved to finally be getting to the point. "We blew a tire about two miles back, and our spare tire is mysteriously missing. We left the car and the rest of our group behind to find your farm."

"We were hoping to buy a tire from you," Grissom finished. "If you'd sell us one."

The farmer rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. "Tell ya what—if your people can get the car here, I'll _give_ you a tire. I got plenty—I'm sure we can find one that'll fit, free of charge."

"That would be great," Sara said sincerely, pulling her cell phone out to give Catherine the good news.

"Why don't ya'll come on in," the farmer invited, gesturing toward his house. "Get yourselves a drink of cold water, and meet the rest of my critters."

They accepted the invitation—especially the part about getting some cold water to drink—and sat down together on a couch in the farmer's spacious livingroom.

The farmer started to sit in a well-worn reclining armchair when a squeak came from the cushion.

"Whoa!" he said, standing back up to look at the chair. "Sorry about that, Flower," he apologized to the small black-and-white ball of fur residing there. He scooped the animal into his arms and sat all the way into the chair, setting the small furry critter in his lap.

"Flower, here, is the runt of the litter," he told Sara and Grissom. "She's named for that skunk in that movie _Bambi_. You know, the one with the deer?"

Sara nodded. She'd already figured that was why this little skunk was given that name.

"How did you get these skunks?" Grissom wanted to know.

"I found 'em in my barn when they were babies," their host explained. "I never saw the mother—figured somethin' must've happened to her and the babies got orphaned. I just didn't have the heart to get rid of them. So I raised 'em myself. Had their scent bags removed so they couldn't spray me," he added, giving an affectionate tweak to Flower's fuzzy ear.

Sara couldn't help but smile at the odd picture before her, of an old farmer proudly holding a pet skunk he'd raised.

The farmer had an idea. "How'd you like to hold Flower?" he asked Sara.

The smile dropped from her face. "That's—I'm not exactly—uh...thanks, anyway," she stammered, not wanting to hold a skunk but also not wanting to offend their host.

"It's okay. She won't mind." The farmer ignored her protest, and deposited Flower on Sara's lap.

Flower wasn't the least bit concerned about her new location. She curled herself up on Sara's legs as if she belonged there, and rested her chin on the tip of her bushy tail.

Sara gave a nervous laugh. "Grissom, there's a skunk in my lap."

Grissom smiled. "And I think she likes you."

Sara's hand hovered over Flower's head, hesitant to actually move down and touch the creature.

"You do like animals," Grissom encouraged her. "A skunk is an animal, too...and this one is not much different from a common housecat, if you think about it."

She shot him a glare, which he pointedly ignored.

Sensing that Sara still wasn't convinced, Grissom reached over to pet the little animal himself.

Sara watched both Grissom and the skunk for a moment before finally bringing her own hand down to touch Flower.

The runty skunk's fur was surprisingly very soft and very clean-looking.

_Grissom was right, _Sara thought to herself. _It _**_isn't_**_ much different from petting a cat. _

And within just a few minutes, Sara and the skunk were buddies.

* * *

Catherine carefully drove her SUV—partially crippled with only three good tires and no spare—to the potato farm, grumbling the whole way about "damaging the rim" and "bending the axels"...and anything else she could think of to complain about.

Warrick and Nick both ignored the negativity as well as they could. They did feel sorry for Catherine's loss of two of her tires, but there wasn't really anything good that her griping would accomplish at this point.

So Warrick focused his mind on the possibility of finally being able to snip the tape off his chest (if the farmer had scissors or something he could use), and Nick focused his mind on their potentially getting un-lost.

Catherine pulled onto the dirt path indicating the farmer's driveway, and came to an irritated stop in front of a large open wooden barn.

Grissom and Sara stepped out of the house next to the barn, and stood on the top porch step with Grissom's arm around Sara's shoulders.

"It took you a long time to get here," Grissom commented offhand.

"Thought maybe you got _lost_," Sara added, just to get a jab in at Nick.

"Catherine drove about three miles per hour," Nick answered with a roll of his tired eyes, not letting Sara's remark have any effect on him.

Catherine merely glared at him. She glared at Warrick and Grissom and Sara too, for good measure.

"Howdy, folks," the farmer greeted the new arrivals as he joined Sara and Grissom on the porch step. He looked down at the blown tire on the vehicle. "Yep, I'm pretty sure I've got something that size."

They were all glad to hear that note of positivity, and they were anxious to get the tire taken care of so they could be on their way again.

Nick drove the SUV into the open barn so it could be properly jacked up for the tire change.

Warrick, meanwhile, had asked permission to use the farmer's bathroom, and was hunting around for a pair of scissors to finally snip the duct tape off his chest hairs.

Grissom decided to supervise the tire-changing process, and assist the farmer if he was needed to do so.

Catherine had nothing to do, so she just sat on the house's porch steps and waited.

"I liked those tires," Catherine sulked, to herself and to Sara. "They were big. They all matched. They looked good on my SUV. And they were all _new_. It took me four months to get them paid off, but they were worth it. And now look at them...all sad and dirty. And not even a whole set anymore."

"Aw, cheer up, Catherine," Sara said pleasantly, sitting down beside her with an animal in her arms. "It was bound to happen, sooner or later. Tires aren't like diamonds—they don't last forever."

Catherine wrinkled her nose, still watching the tire being changed on her vehicle.

"Here, pet a cat," Sara offered, holding a furry black and white critter out toward the blonde. "It'll make you feel better."

Catherine gave a noncommittal grunt, but still reached out and stroked the animal's head.

Enjoying the attention, Flower lifted her head and poked her nose into Catherine's palm.

Catherine chuckled at the feeling of the cold little nose, and finally turned to look at the creature she was petting. Her eyes took in the bushy black tail with the white stripe down the middle, and the two other long white stripes running the length of the critter's dark back.

Then her mouth dropped open and let loose the loudest scream Sara had ever witnessed.

She spooked poor little Flower, who gave a panicked squeal herself and hustled inside the house as fast as her short legs would take her.

"Gaaah!" Catherine scrambled up from the porch step, tripped backward over a bucket, and landed on her rear in a thick patch of soft clover. _"Saraaaa!" _

Sara's face appeared over the edge of the porch steps as she peeked sheepishly at Catherine. "I'm sorry, Catherine," she apologized through her giggles. "But I just couldn't resist!"

"That was not a cat!" Catherine seethed. "That was a skunk! A nasty, stinky _skunk!_"

"Flower is not stinky," Sara contradicted. "She happens to be a very _clean_ skunk."

"_'__Flower'?_" Catherine mocked, hauling herself up out of the clover patch. "It has a _name?_ Ick!"

"You just don't like animals."

"I like animals just fine—as long as they're domestic!"

"Flower _is_ domestic. It's not her fault she's a skunk instead of a cat."

"Ughhh..." Catherine gritted her teeth. She really was not in the mood to battle wits with Sara, especially as she always seemed to be on the losing end. Without another word, she stalked over to the open barn to see how the guys were handling the tire-changing process.

She passed Warrick as he came out of the barn when she entered, and she questioned him about her vehicle.

"It's done," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Great! We can get out of here, then."

He shook his head. "Not exactly."

Catherine quietly counted to five, then asked rather stiffly, "And why not exactly?"

The farmer came out to join them, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. "There's a hole in your radiator, ma'am. Small one, but it'll need fixed before you go anywhere."

"How long is _that_ going to take?"

The farmer shrugged. "A while. Few hours, probably."

"_Hours?_"

"Patchin' a radiator ain't no easy task, ma'am."

Catherine silently steamed. This day could not possibly get any worse, in her opinion.

"Now, the sun is going down pretty quick," the farmer continued. "You folks are welcome to stay here tonight if you want. I won't even charge you anything for the radiator fixin', or for your stayin' here. It gets a mite lonely out here, and sometimes _any_ company is appreciated."

"That's great," Warrick answered, speaking for all five of the CSIs. "We'd be honored to stay at your farm tonight."


	6. Day Five

**DAY FIVE**

Grissom slept peacefully, happily breathing in the scent of Sara's hair which spilled over his shoulder and tickled his nose.

Sara was also sleeping peacefully, happily snuggled against Grissom's side with one arm stretched comfortably across his chest.

But one of them received a rude awakening when Catherine staggered sleepily and irritatedly toward their sleeping forms on the living room floor.

She swung her pillow at both bodies, not caring whom she hit with it although she was really aiming for the male of the species. "Grissom!" she hissed.

Grissom twitched his nose, cuddled closer to Sara, and mumbled, "Five more minutes, honey."

Sara continued snoozing, oblivious to the harassment going on.

"Grissom, wake up!" Catherine struck his shoulder with her pillow. "Wake _up!_"

"Mmmgghhh," he snorted involuntarily, finally surfacing from dreamland. "Uh? Whaddya want?"

"I want to leave," Catherine stated determinedly, with one hand on her hip and the other gripping her pillow-weapon. "Now."

Grissom sat up partway and blinked at her in the darkness as she towered over him. "What?"

"I said I want to _leave_."

"Why?"

" 'Why?' " Catherine scoffed, very unamused. "Do you know what was next to my pillow when I opened my eyes just a few minutes ago?"

He thought about it. "I have no idea."

"That _skunk_," she spat out. "That icky little _skunk!_"

Grissom looked at her blankly, recalling that Flower couldn't hurt anyone even if she wanted to. "And how is this my fault?"

"_You_ found this place," Catherine replied pointedly. "That makes it your fault."

He squinted at her. "Well, technically, Warrick found this place. _He _pointed out the sign on the highway. All I did was walk here."

"Oh, I don't care! _You_ may enjoy waking up with nasty wild animals on you, but _I certainly don't!_ And I am _leaving! _The rest of you can walk home, for all I care."

Grissom just stared at her a moment longer, then called her bluff. "Fine. Your car keys are over there. Have fun on your way home." He yawned, laid back down on the floor, and closed his eyes.

He wasn't the least bit worried. They both knew that Catherine wouldn't really leave him and their teammates behind just to get herself home.

At the very least, it would be a bad career move — he becomes her boss again when they get back to Vegas. Plus, she'd have to face the wrath of the other three once they caught up with her.

Catherine poked him with her toe. "Hey, I'm not done talking to you."

"Go bother Warrick," Grissom suggested, already drifting back to sleep. "My office is closed until morning."

"Ugh...I don't _believe_ this," she huffed. Well, there was nothing to do now except try to get back to sleep. Catherine didn't look forward to it. Not only would she never get back asleep now, but she wasn't sure she _wanted_ to if that skunk was still in the house.

She pursed her lips, thinking. Maybe she could just sit in the reclining chair until morning, and take a nap in the SUV tomorrow on the way home.

_Yes,_ she decided. _That's what I'll do. And that skunk had better stay away from me... _

* * *

Their drive toward home was a tense one, with everyone snapping at each other over who would drive, arguing about which roads to take (they went down at least two dead-end roads), squabbling like children about whose fault everything was, and nitpicking about anything else they could possibly think of.

Sara was ashamed of their behavior — hers, included— and decided to just ignore any more snark directed at her instead of slinging it back.

Grissom felt the same, he admitted, after a whispered discussion with Sara.

Nick tried to make peace between Warrick and Catherine, but neither of his friends would cooperate with him, and so he gave up and drove on with a clenched jaw and slightly pulsating headache.

Warrick was grumpy because Catherine was, and Catherine was just tired and still grumpy about the skunk waking her up in the middle of the night.

She'd tried earlier to take a nap, but that proved impossible thanks to the undesirable bounciness her newly-acquired old worn-out tire gave the SUV.

So despite the peacekeeping efforts of three of the car passengers, the atmosphere still was very unpleasant.

And at the height of yet another argument between Warrick and Catherine, Nick finally stopped the vehicle on a tall hill and everybody got out for a much-needed break from each other.

Sara went off one direction, with Grissom close behind her. They, at least, were getting along just fine.

Catherine chose her own trail, and quickly left the group.

Warrick sighed to himself, choosing another trail opposite to the one Catherine had taken.

Nick took a little stroll through a clearing in some trees, and found himself to be standing on a bluff.

He looked up at the big blue sky, and dropped his gaze down over the fluffy clouds, the distant mountains, and the neon lights of Las Vegas.

Wait a minute — Las Vegas?

He looked again. _Vegas! There it is! Yay!_

Nick shouted for the others to come and see what he was seeing. "Hey! You guys — look! The Strip! It's down there!"

They all came running over, and each stood to gape in awe at the valley down below.

"I am _saved!_" Warrick kneeled down and kissed the ground — an act which he immediately regretted. He wiped a hand across his soiled lips and spit out a lone pine needle.

"Dorothy sure knew what she was talking about." Catherine looked down at the glittering city with tears in her eyes. "There's _no_ place like home!"

Sara was so happy to be back into civilization that she hugged a tree.

Grissom raised a slight commotion, too.

But it had nothing to do with their returning home — no, Grissom had finally found himself a new bug.


	7. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

After making sure the coast was clear, Sara snuck into the locker room at CSI.

She opened her locker and pulled out a roll of scotch tape and a large manila envelope that had been waiting for her all through her work shift.

With a wide grin on her face, she opened the envelope, carefully pulled out an enlarged photograph, and taped it to the outside of Catherine's locker door.

Sara stepped back to admire her latest shenanigan. The crisp new photo hanging on her co-worker's locker proudly displayed three of the Night Shift's CSIs when they were in Catherine's SUV during their road trip — Nick, Warrick, and Catherine herself all sound asleep in the back seat and using each others' shoulders for pillows.

Imagining the look of horror that would presumably be on Catherine's face when she'd find it, Sara couldn't help but snicker a little.

She tossed the tape and empty envelope back into her own locker, shut it, and headed for the door.

Coincidentally, she passed by Catherine who was on her way in just at that moment.

Sara acknowledged her with a smile, and casually walked on. But her curiosity quickly got the better of her and so she peeked around the doorway as her colleague approached the lockers.

Three seconds later, Catherine's shout echoed off the walls. _"Sara Sidle, you better find yourself a mighty good hiding place!" _

Laughing heartily, Sara shot off down the hallway.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the building, Nick and Warrick were busy executing a little prank of their own.

"Did you bring one?"

Nick grinned. "Ooh yeah. Got a _good_ one." He opened the file folder to show Warrick his procurement.

"That's not from our road trip, is it?" Warrick inquired, not immediately recognizing the scene in the photo.

"It's from our last camping trip. You remember, when Grissom and Sara were tangled up in each other's sleeping bags that one morning? Catherine used my camera to get some 'blackmail' shots, which she's never had a good opportunity to use."

Warrick chuckled. "Yeah, now I remember. I guess Cath's pictures are finally coming in handy, huh?"

"I'll say! You think Grissom will like it?"

"He'll love it, if only because it has Sara in it," Warrick promised. "And he'll love planning our murders even more when he finds it."

Nick shrugged confidently. "Ah well. What's the fun of having a boss if you can't joke with them once in a while?"

They neared Grissom's office, and tried to determine if it was empty or not. The door was shut, the shades were drawn, and there appeared to be no light on inside.

Assuming Grissom had already gone home for the rest of the morning, Nick gave the file folder a gentle shove under the door.

Warrick's grin matched Nick's as they slapped a high-five in the air and turned to leave.

But they were caught by surprise when the light in Grissom's office suddenly came on and two blue eyes peeked out through the window-shade slats.

"Aw, crap!" Warrick hissed. "He's still in there!"

"Oh man. Run!"

* * *

Proudly sporting his treasured new beanie propeller hat—an unexpected but very happily received gift from Warrick—Greg Sanders strolled through the corridors of the CSI building on his way to the parking lot.

He was mildly startled out of his satisfying thoughts of a savory grilled steak dinner when his favorite brunette CSI darted past him.

"If Catherine asks," Sara warned breathlessly as she paused for just a moment. "Tell her you haven't seen me anywhere." And quick as a wink, she disappeared around the corner.

"Okay..." Greg answered to the empty corridor, without a clue as to what was going on.

Mere seconds later, Catherine stormed up behind him. "Greg—"

Greg turned around with both hands up in surrender. "I haven't seen her anywhere," he voluntarily lied for Sara.

Growling under her breath, Catherine pursed her lips and continued on her way.

Greg, too, would have continued on his way immediately, but he was literally sideswiped by two more Night Shift CSIs just as he was turning back toward his original destination.

"Sorry, Greg," Warrick apologized for both of them, trailing after Nick as he ducked into the Trace Lab.

Certain that he was going to get whiplash from the double human collision, Greg briefly wondered which one he should sue for his personal injury.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Grissom bearing down on him, and he wisely jumped out of the way just in time.

"Nick and Warrick?" Grissom questioned brusquely.

With his back now plastered against the glass wall and keeping a relatively safe distance from Grissom, Greg simply pointed a finger in the direction Warrick and Nick had retreated.

Grissom made a beeline for the Trace Lab, tossing over his shoulder, "Greg, remind me tomorrow to give you a pay raise."

Greg just stared after him.

"They're nuts," he told himself. "All of them. I'm the only sane one left." He shuddered at the very idea. _Scary thought, indeed_.

He smoothed the front edge of his beanie hat and impulsively spun the plastic red propeller on top.

Then he looked around cautiously, ensuring that nobody else was coming to run him over, and finally made his way to the main exit doors.


End file.
